


To conceal a fox

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural RPF
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-16 03:07:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18512638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: John only has two sons. So why is there a boy who looks just like Dean, only several years too young?





	1. Chapter 1

John could hear the unmistakable sound of wood hitting flesh and he barely avoided wincing. The continuous cracking noise echoed in the hallway. The sharpness of the sound meant the teacher had opened his door to share the punishment with the world. John still couldn't believe how sadistic some of these fuckers were. It’s one thing to paddle a kid. It's a whole other to do it in front of the entire class. But then to open the door so anyone and everyone could witness the kid's humiliation... it was just cruel.

John's fingers twitched into a loose fist. He had to take a deep breath and remind himself that despite his paternal instincts, he had a job to do. He couldn't risk blowing his cover for one kid, when successfully completing his mission would mean the entire school was safe... from supernatural means anyway. He couldn’t protect these kids from the teachers or from each other. He wondered again what sort of parent puts their kids in this environment.

And, yeah, that was a little hypocritical considering he'd enrolled the boys. But at least he had the excuse of hunting down a soul sucking spirit. As soon as that was done, he and the boys were getting the hell out of this place. He couldn't ignore the sound of poor kid getting his ass handed to him. John suddenly had an terrifying thought; that kid could quite possibly be his Sammy or Dean. Fuckers wouldn't dare. Right? Shit. John rushed towards the sound.

He could see the open door as the crack of the paddle got louder. John paused, peering in the doorway. If he stood at an angle he could see into the room, but the students and the teacher wouldn't see him. The only one who might catch him looking would be the kid getting beaten.

He could see the kid stretched across the desk with his fingers clutching the other side. The kid's face was turned away from him. He was young. Maybe ten years old or so. Too young to be one of his boys. John felt guilty for the relief he felt at that. This boy had dark blond hair, shorn to a buzz cut. There was a smear of something on the back of his neck, but his white collared shirt covered most of it. John couldn't pinpoint what exactly the mark was. Probably just a bit of grease. The boy looked almost bored as he lay across the desk, his feet dangling a few inches off the floor. The crack of the paddle was unending. The boy's bottom had to be a mess of deep bruises by now. The kid's knuckles were white, but other then that he made no sound. He didn't even twitch as the teacher slammed the paddle into him. John doubted he could take a beating like that without showing some sort of reaction.

The sick fuck of a teacher finally got tired of beating the unresponsive student and threw the paddle onto the desk next to the boy with a clatter.

"I'm done with you. Go report to the Headmaster."

John recognized that voice. Mr. Walters was a bully. He intimidated the other teachers. He tried to intimidate John, but John didn't intimidate easy. He shouldn't have been surprised that Mr. Walters was the one punishing a boy far worse then any child could possibly deserve. And then send the kid to the Headmaster where he'll unquestionably be beaten again. John hated this goddamn school.

The boy turned his head towards the door for just a second.

John froze. Dean. The boy looked exactly like Dean Well... Dean from a few years ago.  
Little Dean's eyes were squeezed shut, his lips were pressed together in a tight line, and his face was pale. He took a deep breath as he composed himself.

When he finally did speak, the boy's voice was smug, "Thank you sir. May I have another?"

The kid laughed, actually laughed as he pushed himself off the desk. "See ya around sexy!"

With a smirk and a saunter the boy who looked like his son exited the room, barely avoiding a collision with John.

The boy took a hasty step back as he examined John. He smirked, though his eyes were wary. "So you like to watch? Kinky."

Suddenly John realized why Mr. Walters was beating the hell out of this kid. He didn't even know him and he was already resisting the urge to strangle him. John reminded himself that the boy was probably just trying to hide his embarrassment at such a public punishment. He gently placed his hand on the kid's neck, ignoring the way the boy tensed under him.

"I know you're supposed to report to the Headmaster, but how about we get you cleaned up first? My name's Mr. Newman. I teach shop."

The boy shrugged. "Whatever, man."

John stiffened because the child even sounded like Dean. Not that his kid would ever backtalk him like that, but still... John ushered the kid into the nearest faculty restroom. He figured there would be less of a chance one of the kid's peers would barge in. School policy was very clear about students in faculty restrooms, and most kids didn't have the balls to risk a licking just to pee in the nicer bathrooms. It would give them a little privacy and John wanted to spare the kid any unnecessary embarrassment.

The kid immediately started washing his face. As he scrubbed, the mark on his neck became more noticeable. A barcode.

"Nice tat, kid."

The kid smirked, "I was in a gang."

Somehow John didn't doubt that. The boy had a feral edge to him that usually only developed as a result of never feeling safe. A gang explained that as well as any other excuse.

"What's your name, kid?" John couldn't keep calling him Little Dean in his head.

The boy had the audacity to roll his eyes. "Samuel Johns."

Samuel Johns. Just like his Sammy. The kid was walking around with Dean's face, and Sam's name. It made no sense. The boy had to be related to him. There was no other explanation for why he looked so much like Dean. But Mary had no siblings, and John only had brothers. Johns wasn't a family name, but still, this was a hell of a coincidence...

"Dude, what's up with you? You keep staring at me. I know I'm pretty, but take a picture, it'll last longer."

John laughed. "Okay, smart aleck. I'm beginning to see why your teacher was so eager to beat some manners into you. Not that I approve. The licks he handed out went above and beyond the call of duty."

Samuel's eyes narrowed as though he didn't expect to hear one teacher bad mouth another. As quickly as the look of confusion settled on his face, a blank look of disdain covered it. "Whatever."

John just shook his head. "Okay, how long did he whack at you for? I only heard the last few minutes."

The kid shrugged, "dunno. Forgot my stopwatch, I guess."

"Alright, here's what we're going to do. You're going to go into that stall there and take a look at the damage. You're then going to tell me how bad it is. If I think you’re trying to be a tough guy and lie about it, I'll take a look myself. I figure you're a big kid though. I can trust you not to lie to me." John's voice took on a challenging edge, "right?"

The kid raised his palms in surrender. "You're the boss."

He disappeared into the stall and John could hear the rustling of clothes. The kid reemerged a few minutes later, toeing at the linoleum with his shoe.

"It's pretty bruised. But I don't think it damaged the muscles underneath. It's nothing time, and maybe an ice bag won't heal." The boy's assessment of his own injuries seemed to be almost clinical. John didn't quite know what make of the kid.

"Here's what we're going to do. We're going to the Headmaster–"

The kid sucked in a breath, obviously upset by the prospect but trying not to show it. He was a tough little guy. That one little inhalation was the only sign of fear he gave. If John hadn't been paying attention, he'd never have even noticed it.

John quickly continued, "I don't want to give Walters an excuse to whack at you more. I'm going to talk to the Headmaster, and explain the extent of your injuries. I doubt he'll want to inflict any more damage. You might want to keep your smart mouth in check though."

The kid shrugged, and followed John as he stormed to the Headmaster's office. John put a hand on the boy's shoulder, "You stay here."

John knocked on the door before entering. Headmaster Mitchell was a big man. His head was bald and he constantly seemed to be sweating. It looked as though he wore his suit a size too small, judging by the way the button's strained to contain him. The Headmaster didn’t seem to be particularly pleased to see him, but didn't kick him out either.

John tried to be as polite as possible, "Good morning Headmaster."

The man simply grunted in response.

"I have a boy outside of your office. He was sent by Mr. Walters. The kid says his name is Samuel Johns."

The Headmaster brightened at that and visibly sat up in his seat. His enthusiasm made John nervous.

"Mr. Walters used excessive force in discipling Mr. Johns. I witnessed him paddling the boy for at least five minutes straight, and I only caught the tail end of the punishment. The boy is seriously bruised and I was concerned about the toll any other physical punishment might cause his body."

Mitchell simply beamed. "Your concern is noted Mr. Newman. I'll take the boy from here. You may leave."

John inhaled deeply. This didn't feel right. He was about to protest when he heard the boy enter, not meeting his eyes as he came into the room. John looked indecisively between the two, not wanting to leave the boy alone with a man who obviously didn't have his best interests at heart.

Mitchell's noted John's hesitation, "Newman. You'd be better off just focusing on your classes and your boys. Some things just don’t concern you."

The boy looked at John with Dean's green eyes. Samuel was nervous, but he wasn't asking for help. There was definitely something going on here. John wasn't going to win any Parent of the Year Awards, but he raised two boys on his own. He knew kids, and there was something strange about this one. It obviously wasn't the first time Samuel had been in this office, and Mitchell's glee at his arrival was very suspicious. Despite this, the kid looked calm, professional, and stoic. Samuel dismissed John with a nod.

"Mr. Newman. Close the door when you leave," the rotund man said shrilly.

The only reason John was able to go was Samuel's tiny nod of understanding, and the realization that he had a spirit to destroy. He couldn't fight human monsters until the supernatural ones were dead. If he got kicked out too soon, he wouldn't be able to save anyone.

Despite his misgivings, John shut the door behind him and walked away.


	2. Chapter 2

Back in his quarters when John met the boys for dinner, he decided not to mention Samuel Johns and his uncanny similarity to Dean. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from pulling out an old snapshot, marveling at the resemblance. He couldn’t help a little paranoia at the exact likeness. What was he, a shapeshifter? Some kind of supernatural monster? But there was no evil in the boy’s eyes and John had been in the business long enough to trust his own instincts on that. It was best for him and the boys to be focused on their mission. Kids were disappearing from the Academy. Most of the pathetic parents who sent their kids to this misery pit didn’t seem to care about the disappearing kids, but rumors had been spreading steadily about students being kidnapped from the dorms. Weird things had been happening at the Academy, and it was John’s job to stop them. He just wished he hadn’t brought his sons along this time. “Anybody bothering you boys?” He caught Dean’s eye over his plate of re-hydrated mashed potatoes. After witnessing Mr. Walter’s brutality today, John had to be sure no one hit his kids and he expected Dean to keep an eye on his little brother when he couldn’t be there. The teenager nodded, understanding. Sam looked up from attacking his mashed potatoes. “There’s a lot of loudmouth students, but mostly teachers have been leaving me alone. Teachers like me.” Dean rolled his eyes, “Of course teachers like you. You’re a freak who likes school.” Sam loaded a spoon full of mashed potatoes to flick at his brother, but John’s look of warning had him reconsidering. With a grin, Sam redirected the potential missile, stuffing his cheeks like a chipmunk. “Chew, Sam,” John reminded him. Dean rolled his eyes at his brother’s antics, but turned his attention to his father with a pathetic moan. “Dad, I’m nineteen. I’ve graduated high school. Why do I have to be a senior again? I was seventeen once, I don’t need to repeat the experience.” John raised his eyebrows at his son. This wasn’t the first time they’d had this conversation, “I need the backup. No one’ll take a nineteen year old senior. Luckily you have a baby face, kiddo.” John knew it was pushing the limits, but he couldn’t resist pinching one of Dean’s cheeks. His eldest just whined louder and dodged back. John didn’t even try to hide his laugh. Dean glared, “Very funny. Do you want to solve this case or not? Because I’m officially sick of school uniforms.” “If you’ve got information, boy, you’d better spill.” Dean leaned forward in his seat and placed his elbows on the table, “I’ve been asking around about the missing kids. Most of the older students don’t know crap, but the little guys are all terrified. It’s only the fifth graders who get nabbed. There’s something weird going on with that whole grade. The teachers are sort of bastards everywhere, but the fifth grade teachers are real jerks. They beat those kids.” Dean looked baffled. He understood supernatural monsters, but just couldn’t comprehend human ones. “I don’t get it, dad. Even those teachers who teach all levels, bully the fifth grade in particular. Mr. Walters gave me some licks for not writing him poetry, but I hear he beats this little boy every day. And not just five licks for being dumb. He seriously beats this kid.” John’s eyes narrowed, murderous. “Did Walters hurt you?” Dean rolled his eyes. “Geez Dad. No, you’ve given me worse then he did. He was just pissed off because me and Emily Dickinson aren’t friends. I mean, that chick was seriously twisted. Plus, since I’m not really a high school student, I shouldn’t really have to do homework.” John’s raised eyebrow told Dean what he thought about that statement. Dean ducked his head. John ignored the urge to start the old “you don’t apply yourself in school” argument again. Instead he turned to Sam. “What about you, Sam?” Sam was no longer playing with his food, and the kid looked pale at Dean’s story. “That’s what the tenth graders are saying too. Some of the teachers pick on the little kids, and then a few weeks later the kid just disappears. Do you think it’s a spirit?” John nodded, though he was starting to wonder if the kids were just running away. God knows he’d run away if he was getting that kind of abuse. And where the hell were these kids parents? The kids had completely disappeared. He couldn’t find records of them surfacing anywhere, even as bodies. Granted, it was harder to find reliable information since all the computers fried after the electromagnetic weapon went off. But if the papers got wind of a little girl or boy reuniting with their family after running away from an abusive environment, they’d be all over it. Everyone loved stories with little kids. The thought was sobering and John couldn’t help thinking of Samuel Johns and his too-old eyes. John was beginning to hate this mystery. And he definitely hated this school. A bell rang, reminding the Winchester that dinner time was over. John looked forward to his private dinner with his boys, but once that bell rang the boys had to head back to their dorms or face consequences. “Be good,” he said, and this time he really meant it. He didn’t want to give these guys any excuse to come down on his boys. Sam and Dean shared a look, before stuffing their faces as they shrugged into their red uniform jackets. “Sammy’s always good,” Dean teased, ruffling Sam’s hair. “Shut up, Dean,” Sam griped. They said their goodbyes and quickly ran off to their respective dorms to get ready for lights out. Left alone once more, John picked up the dishes, heading over to the sink. He was thinking about Samuel Johns. He had to try to find out more about this kid. He was the target age for whoever was stealing fifth graders. And based on Dean’s recon, he was definitely in trouble. John waited a few more hours until after the lights out bell had rung, and people had gone to sleep. He’d be a wreck for his classes tomorrow, but luckily gym and shop didn’t require too much of John’s attention in order to function. He slipped quietly through the halls. It was almost two a.m. and the place should have been empty except for the night guard. The light was on in the Headmasters office though, and John crept closer to investigate. As he got closer, he heard the sound of a struggle ending abruptly with a loud thump. John raised his gun and barged through the door. The ten year old who looked like Dean was standing over the limp pudgy body of the Headmaster, trembling like a leaf, fresh blood on his hands. The Headmaster was definitely dead. A letter opener had been plunged into his throat. That was the first thing John noticed. The second thing he noticed was both of them were naked. The boy’s uniform was practically shredded. Mitchell’s suit had survived better. It was carefully folded and placed carefully on a chair. Samuel didn’t lie to John about his injuries. His bottom was deeply bruised, and there was a purple and pink contusion around his left bicep. If John looked hard enough he could see the dark smear of a thumb in that colorful mark. He was whipcord thin, like a stray puppy. His bare feet made the kid look even younger then he was. There was something vulnerable about his toes gripping the carpet. Samuel barely acknowledged John’s entrance. He stared blankly at the dead man. “I couldn’t do it.” His voice was monotone. “I tried. I tried to complete my mission, sir. I failed.” A thought suddenly occurred to him and Samuel looked up at John like a terrified rabbit, “Don’t take me back I can’t go back. Please, sir. I’m sorry I didn’t complete my mission. I’m sorry ” John froze. He had no idea how to handle this situation. The boy’s pleading became more frantic. It was only when the child shoved a manila folder at him, that he moved. John wrapped his coat around the hysterical boy and tried to shush him. “We’re going. I won’t take you back. We’ll go someplace else. Someplace safe. You’re okay kiddo. I got you. You’re okay. Just quiet down for me, okay? We gotta be quiet or else we’ll get caught. I can take you someplace safe, but only if you can settle down for me...” The boy was suddenly silent, sinking into some kind of shock that made John even more nervous. The defiant boy from earlier that day was gone and now he just seemed... defeated. John tried to find the boy’s shoes, but it was useless. The kid looked ridiculous wrapped in John’s ugly polyester red coat, like a giant bathrobe. His bloody hands were hidden under the too long sleeves. John knew the boy was too old to be carried, but he didn’t want him wandering all over the place in his bare feet. John failed to protect the kid earlier. He’d be damned if he’d let the kid’s feet get cut up. The kid was officially under John’s protection now. Fuck the mission. John lifted the boy with one arm and held him to his chest. Samuel hugged at the manila folder like it was a teddy bear. Other then hitched breathing, the kid didn’t make a sound. John had to move quick. The situation was bad. Definitely bad. He had to get his boys out of here and screw the mission. Maybe Bobby could take care of it later, but John definitely had to bail. He rushed to Dean’s dorm first and set the boy down in the hallway. John placed his finger against his lips and Samuel nodded in understanding. He wouldn’t move or speak. John snuck into the senior boys dorm and touched Dean’s shoulder. He was proud that Dean woke immediately and completely. He’d trained his boys well. They knew this was a hunt. One nod of John’s head told Dean that they were leaving. Dean slipped into his clothes quickly and silently and followed his dad out. It was only Dean’s training and John’s stern look that kept him from asking about the little boy wrapped in John’s jacket leaving bloody hand prints on a folder, waiting in the hallway. John picked the kid up again and nodded to Dean. The trio rushed to Sam’s dorm and the procedure was repeated, this time with Dean and the kid waiting in the hall. Sam was harder to wake, blinking up sleepily at his father. But he was just as quick to leave. Dean may have teased him about liking school, but no one was crazy enough to like this school. John prayed that they wouldn’t run into the night guard as they rushed towards the Impala. His family had nothing but the clothes on their backs. Anything brought into the school, would be left behind. It was a Winchester lesson learned early. Never bring anything of sentimental value on a hunt. John hoped that they would just fade away like those missing kids. No one would look for them. It was a vain hope. Except for the boy, they didn’t fit the pattern, not to mention the dead body they were leaving behind. The cops would assume John was responsible for the headmaster’s murder. Well, better John then a little kid with Dean’s face. The only hitch they had on the way to the car, was the giant gates that locked all the kids in at night. Dean picked the lock, but it took longer then it should have and John’s stomach twisted with every wasted second. The car was exactly where he hid her, and for once his boys didn’t argue about who got the front seat. They both surrendered the spot to the silent child their dad brought along with them. The Impala purred as she started up, and John quickly put as much distance between his family and that school as possible. John noticed the child shivering in his jacket, and he silently raised the heat. He tried not to pay attention to the sticky blood stains the boy was smearing on his jacket. There was something especially gory about thick scarlet blood, staining orange-red polyester. John would look forward to burning that jacket in the future. His sons showed surprising self restraint as they managed to keep quiet for almost an hour. Finally Sam broke first, “Dad? Who is he?” John glanced in the rear view mirror at his boys. “Says his name is Samuel Johns. We needed to get out of there. I took him with us. You gonna argue with me about it, Sam?” Sam shook his head. “No sir. Just wondering...” The boy seemed to shake harder at the Winchester’s discussion. John had to admit that maybe his shivering wasn’t from the cold. “Dean, can you get up here?” Dean only looked surprised for a second before he climbed over the front seat and settled in between his dad and the new kid. John said in a low voice, “Can you settle him?” The boy was obviously spooked, with good reason. Unfortunately John needed both hands on the wheels and his focus on the road, just in case they were followed. And Dean was good with kids. “Hey buddy... Um, what’s your name?” Dean spoke to the boy like he was much younger then he was. John half expected the kid to be insulted at the coddling. “494.” Dean and John exchanged a confused look. John asked, “No kiddo, what’s your name?” The boy repeated, “494.” John said, “I thought it was Samuel Johns.” The boy clenched and unclenched his hands, staring at the blood that had slowly dried in clumps and flaked off. “That’s my cover. My designation is 494.” He suddenly reached across Dean to grab at John’s arm, “You aren’t going to send me back, are you? I’m sorry I didn’t complete my mission. I was able to gather the information you wanted, but I couldn’t complete my training. I’m sorry, sir. I’ll do anything you want, just don’t send me back ” Dean carefully put his hands on the boy’s shoulders and pulled him away from his dad. “We’ll go someplace safe. I promise.” John nodded his approval at his son. Dean even phrased it like his dad had. The little boy settled down, mildly reassured. As John continued to drive, Dean was able to clean the kid up. Most of the blood came off thanks to dozens of handiwipes they always stole from barbeque restaurants. The kid wouldn’t really be clean until he was shoved in a shower, but he looked less like an extra from a horror film. Neither of his boys seemed to recognize the similarity between Dean and Samuel... or 494, or whatever the kid’s name was. The more John looked at him, the more he could see minor differences. Dean was always a cute kid, but this boy was downright pretty. It was like all of Dean’s mild flaws were erased in the kid. The boy was the movie star version of Dean as a ten year old. It was downright creepy. Part of John still wondered if the kid was a shape shifter or a doppleganger. Part of John wanted to get his sons away from him, a potential monster. But mostly John just saw a younger version of his son, and the boy was terrified. He couldn’t bring himself to scare the kid further and he certainly wasn’t leaving him alone. The Winchester drove in silence as dawn finally broke. John continued to drive, wanting to get as far away as possible before the shit hit the fan at the Academy. He had a lot of questions about the boy, but they had to wait. It was only when he was too exhausted to drive anymore that John pulled up to a motel. He left his boys in the car as he ordered a room. It was better not to let people make a connection between the disappearance of four people from the Academy, and their sudden appearance at Sunny Lake motel. John pulled around to the back of the motel before unloading the kids. Sam was being unusually obedient, but John figured that was because there was an obviously traumatized little kid in the mix for the moment. It only took a few minutes before he got all three boys, and their duffle bags into the room. It was a standard room with two full sized beds. The carpet was dirt brown, the walls were a sandy color, and the covers on the beds were grass green. John felt like an ant. His boys flopped face first on the bed closest to the bathroom, but the little kid was unusually alert. He seemed to be memorizing the room, looking for exits, but maybe John was reading too much into it. After all, what sort of ten year old automatically tries to scope out a new environment? The boy was probably just as fascinated with the lawn color scheme as John was. Honestly, who designed the damn room? It was hideous. “Dean, salt the doors and windows, “John ordered, sitting down on the other bed and pulling the skittish boy to stand between his knees. Dean groaned, knowing that the urgency had somewhat passed, but he quickly revived himself to do as he was told. “Are you hurt?” John pulled the red coat tighter around the kid. He shook his head. “Did Mitchell force himself on you?” The boy shuddered, but shook his head again. “Can I trust you not to lie to me?” The boy nodded. John seriously did not want to be having this conversation. But it had to happen. “If anything happened, you got no reason to be embarrassed. It wasn’t your fault. But I gotta know because a hurt like that... it’s better to tell me about it now, then for it to get worse. Understand?” The kid’s jaw clenched, and John couldn’t, for the life of him, figure out what was going on in his head. Even when Dean got into his quiet moods, John could still usually read him. This kid had a hardcore poker face. After a moment of silence, John gave up for tonight. “Okay. Why don’t you go take a shower, and I’ll see if I can find some clothes for you.” The boy nodded once more, and for a moment John was worried the boy resembled Dean in more than just a physical way, and he’d end up refusing to speak for six months. “Hey kid, seriously, what’s your name?” It took the child a second to answer. John could almost see the boy physically rearranging his mask to hide his fear. Sam and Dean were doing an admirable job pretending to be asleep and not blatantly eavesdropping. The kid glanced over at them before answering, obviously not fooled by their thespian skills. “Don’ have a name. I got a designation. I’m X5-494,” his tone was getting mulish, harder than it should be coming from a kid so young. “Little more unique then being your average Joe... or Sammy,” he said, glancing condescendingly over at the fifteen year old, who looked offended, despite being ostensibly ‘asleep.’ 494 managed to smirk at John. “That’s not a name. I’m impressed though. After a night like this, you still manage to be a smart aleck.” John raised an eyebrow, thinking of something. “So for now, we’ll just call you Alec... okay?” The kid shrugged, “Suits me just fine.” “That it does. Now get your ass into the shower so we can all catch some sleep. I promise I won’t interrogate you until tomorrow.” John meant for it to be gentle teasing, but from the way all color drained from Alec’s face, the boy thought he was absolutely serious. Dean gave up the act. “He’s just kidding. Don’t freak out.” Alec muttered something about common vernacular before going to shower. It took some searching, but John was able to find a t-shirt of Dean’s and some drawstring sweat pants of Sam’s that would... well not “fit” the kid, but not fall off of him either. John definitely needed to do a supply run because nothing was more conspicuous then a ten year old dressed in clothing that obviously didn’t belong to him. Once the boys settled down in the bed nearest the bathroom, they fell asleep almost immediately, this time for real. Dean made sure his knife was under his pillow, but barely took his shoes off before crashing. Alec looked at the floor when he came back from his shower, but still crawled into bed with John. The kid seemed to think John expected it. John didn’t want to think about that one too hard. He lay almost flush with the wall, trying to give Alec as much room as possible on their bed. But Alec lay as close to the edge as possible, as straight as a board. John knew he wasn’t asleep even though the boy faked it better then his own boys did. If John didn’t desperately need the rest to function tomorrow, he would have slept on the floor, or the chairs, but there’s no way his back wouldn’t seize up if he attempted it. Tomorrow he’d get his little family sorted out. He’d figure out what was going on with Alec and the Academy, and get his kids even further away from the scene of the Headmaster’s death. But today he’d just catch some sleep and be satisfied that all three boys were safe for now.


	3. Chapter 3

John had almost fallen asleep when Alec suddenly bolted upright in bed. The hunter felt a familiar jolt of adrenaline course through his system as he followed the boy into full awareness.

“What’s wrong?” he asked quietly, eyes and ears straining to pick up any threat to him or his boys.

Alec was wide-eyed and panicked. “You’re not from Manticore. Shit. Of course you’re not. Dammit...” 

John could see Dean open his eyes into lazy slits to watch this new development. He wasn’t sure if he was proud of the casual way Dean’s hand slid under his pillow to grip the knife he kept there, or sad that his little boy had been forced to grow into such a paranoid young man. 

Calmly, John gripped Alec by the shoulders, feeling him tremble under his steady hands. He turned Alec so he was looking down into his pale face. “Kiddo, calm down. What’s Manticore?” 

That only sent Alec deeper into his freak out. “I’m such an idiot ”

“Deep breaths, kid, deep breaths...”

The boy moved quicker then anyone John had ever seen, and even his eyes had trouble as the boy seemed to blur with speed. Alec crossed the small space to Dean’s bed, and grabbed the dagger out of Dean’s hand. Judging from Dean’s startled cry, the boy was also stronger then he appeared. 

By the time John burst out of bed and reached to grab the kid, Alec was all ready locked in the bathroom with Dean’s knife. 

Both of his sons were wide awake by this point. Without needing to be told, Dean grabbed a weapon and hustled out the door, going to guard the window in case Alec tried to escape that way. Sam stood up warily, guarding the entrance while John quickly forced the bathroom door open. 

Of all the things he expected to see behind that door, he definitely didn’t place any bets on amateur surgery. But sure enough, Alec’s shoulder was bleeding and the kid held a tiny disk between his thumb and forefinger. John rushed towards him, intent on getting the knife out of the boy’s hands. He didn’t anticipate the kid having any military training. Every attempt to grab the kid was met with an effective dodge. He couldn’t touch the kid 

After ducking and weaving a few more times, the kid figured out what John wanted and he dropped the knife while protesting, “Don’t hurt me I’ll explain everything ” 

John was hesitant, but he stopped his advance. It was useless anyway. The only thing that came out of his attempts to subdue Alec was John getting winded and Alec growing hyper. 

Despite the fact that he had the upper hand, Alec held up both hands in surrender, the small gray disk, still held delicately between his thumb and forefinger. 

John growled, thinking he might have been mistaken about trusting the kid. “Nothing human moves that fast. What the fuck are you?”

The kid paled, “Okay, okay... you’re right. I’m not human. ‘Least not 100%. The government had this genius plan to play around with human DNA and animal DNA in order to create super soldiers and uh... I’m sort of what you get. So yeah, not 100% human... but I’m close enough. I’m just built a little better.”

Sam maintained his post at the door, but looked a little too fascinated with Alec’s story for John’s comfort. He knew his kid was a science geek, but this was taking it too far. 

John didn’t let his guard down. He pointed at the gray disk and demanded answers, “What’s that?”

“It’s a G.P.S. A tracking system. Another unit went rogue two years ago, and they implanted a G.P.S. in the rest of us. I, I thought you were Manticore. I don’t know. I figured the mission changed but you weren’t going to throw me back in Psy-Ops ” The kid started shaking at that. “I can’t go back there. I’m sorry I dragged you into this mess. I didn’t mean to. We... we gotta go though. I made a tactical error. I... I guess I’m rogue now too. They’re gonna come looking for me.”

John narrowed his eyes at the boy. He was confused and pissed. Beyond pissed. But the kid said they had to move, so they had to move. He didn’t take his eyes off of the science project, “Sammy, go get your brother. We gotta go.” 

Sam nearly tripped over his feet in his rush to get Dean. 

Alone in the room with John, Alec shook harder. Tears threatened to spill down his cheeks, and despite John’s anger, the kid looked so damned young that it was hard to glare at him. 

“You seemed military,” Alec stammered, “I read the situation wrong.”

“I was a Marine,” John said, giving a drudging explanation.

“Oh... Look, you take Sam and Dean and drive North. I’ll run East. I’ll bring the G.P.S. with me for awhile... get ‘em off your trail.” 

John rubbed at his eyes roughly. “Flush the damn thing down the toilet. We’re all leaving together.”

Alec started to say something about being trained for solo missions, but the look on John’s face stopped him in his tracks. John firmly pushed the ten-year-old in the direction of the bathroom, brooking no argument. Eyes wide, as if he wasn’t exactly sure what he’d just gotten himself into, Alec did what he was told. 

Sam and Dean ran into the room as Alec re-emerged after flushing the tracking device. The two older boys immediately grabbed their duffle bags, stuffing their supplies in, and zipping the bags up. 

“We gotta move, boys ” John ordered. “And Alec, get over here. I want to look at that shoulder.”

“You don’t have to worry about it. I heal fast.”

“That’s great, kid, but I don’t really care. Get your ass over here.” Alec put up only a token resistance as John dragged him over to the bed and once again sat on it’s edge with Alec between his knees. 

“Sammy, get the first aid kit. Dean, c’mere for a second, son.” 

Dean stood by his dad’s side as Sam rummaged though John’s duffle until he found the white box. John nodded in approval when Sam dropped it on the bed next to him. 

“Alec, I want you to give Dean a hug.”

The kid looked at John like he was crazy, but Dean and Sam knew exactly what was going on. They looked on in sympathy at the ugly gash in the little boy’s skin. Dean moved in front of Alec, turning him away from John so John could look at his shoulder. 

John stripped the oversized shirt off Alec as Dean crouched down. “It’s cool, little dude. Dad’s gotta disinfect your shoulder and that’ll sting a little. Squeeze as tight as you want if your shoulder hurts, don’t worry about hurting me.”

Alec looked skeptical, sizing up the older boy with his bright green eyes.

John ignored the boy’s reluctance, handing Dean a small white pill and a bottle of water, as he arranged the rest of his supplies. Dean gave the pill to Alec. “Take this, okay?”

Alec looked wary, “I don’t need it.”

John poked gently at the kid’s shoulder, examining the damage. “It wasn’t a request, Alec. Take the damn pill.”

Alec took the damn pill. 

“Now hug Dean.”

The kid hesitantly wrapped his arms around Dean’s stomach as the older boy carefully placed his arms over Alec’s and linked them at his back. John learned this trick when Sam was a little kid. Sam would wiggle and scream if hydrogen peroxide came anywhere near his body. With Dean hugging him, he was able to effectively pin his brother without making Sam feel trapped. John hoped the same would be true for Alec. There wasn’t time for stitches, but the shoulder needed to be disinfected and bandaged. Dean’s knife wasn’t just for whittling wood. There was no telling what sort of germs were on the blade when Alec decided to play doctor. Medical supplies were hard to get after the Pulse, but John couldn’t risk the boy getting an infection. 

The cut was too deep for hydrogen peroxide, so John smeared Neosporin on it before carefully using butterfly bandages to hold the skin together. The kid didn’t flinch at his gentle prodding. John finished up by taping a square piece of gauze over the wound, and ran a hand over the kid’s hair as silent praise.

Dean let the boy go and started to pack up the first aid kit. “Good job, dude.” 

Alec muttered to himself, “It’s no big deal. Didn’t need to waste time on it.”

“Whatever, kid. Didn’t want you bleeding all over my car.” John once again lifted Alec with one arm, a little surprised that the kid let him. Then again, Alec still didn’t have any shoes on. 

He got the kid into the front seat of the car with a clean towel pressed against his shoulder to stop the blood. He was about to get into the driver’s seat when Dean’s hand stopped him. “Dad, I can drive for awhile. I got a few hours of sleep back at the Academy.” 

John exchanged a look with his son. Dean understood the orders: Don’t fuck up the car. Don’t bring attention to us. Drive as fast as you can. And watch the kid. 

Dean nodded and John got in the backseat with Sam. Their lives had just gotten a whole lot more interesting thanks to Alec. Nothing to do about it now but drive.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean had been driving for a little over an hour when he felt Sam poke him in the shoulder. He raised an eyebrow at his brother’s silent giggles, but a glance through the rearview mirror let him know exactly why Sam was in hysterics. John was asleep with his head against the door, and his jaw gaping open and a thin line of drool threatening to escape his mouth. Soft snores interrupted the silence at short intervals. Dean’s shoulder’s caved as he stifled a loud snort. Both boys shook with repressed laughter.

“We should tape record him doing that sometime,” Sam suggested wickedly.

Dean grinned, “He’d probably claim it was EVP.”

Both boys mimicked their father’s gruff voice, “I don’t snore ”

Silent giggles suddenly became a lot less silent.

After they managed to get themselves under control, Sam leaned over the front seat and stared at the new kid. Alec was slumped against the door, his eyes closed and his breathing even. The reddened towel that was supposed to be against his injured shoulder, had fallen against his elbow. His breath made the cold window fog and mist. 

Sam whispered to Dean, “Is he asleep? Or faking?”

Dean took his eyes off the road for a second to glance at the kid. “Definitely asleep. Dad made him take a kiddie dose of Vicodin.”

Sam stared at the kid for a minute, “Why do you think Dad brought him along?”

Dean replied, “I dunno. ‘Cause the school wasn’t safe for him?”

Sam mused, “Yeah, but if he was just a stray, we’d be taking him to Pastor Jim’s. We’ve done it before. But instead we’re just driving around like we’re on a road trip.” 

“I don’t know. Maybe Dad’s just waiting to pump him for info before dropping him off.”

“Yeah, probably.”

The boys were silent for a moment. 

Dean couldn’t help but look at the kid again. “You know, I can’t decide if he’s a weird lookin’ kid or cute in a sort of Norman Rockwell kinda way.”

Sam scoffed, wrinkling his nose at his brother, “Dude, how do you even know who Norman Rockwell is?”

“Every dentist we’ve ever gone to has had a framed poster in the waiting room. While you were suffering for your sweet tooth, I had to stare at happy pictures of wholesome little kids doing nauseatingly adorable things. It was cruel and unusual punishment, man!”

Sam rolled his eyes, “Whatever.”

Dean insisted, “No seriously, I mean - look at the squirt. He’s got those freckles that stick him into the Norman Rockwell category, not to mention those green eyes that’ll pretty much guarantee us free pie from waitresses. But then he’s got the girly lips and weird ears.”

Sam examined the kid, “Weird ears?”

“Yeah, they stick out a little. Makes his head look funny.”

Sam snorted, glancing from the new kid to his brother. “You totally just described yourself, man.”

Dean whipped around towards Sam, both eyebrows raised high. “What? No I didn’t ” He quickly remembered he was driving, and refocused his attention on the road. He smugly stated, “That kid looks nothing like me. I’m a handsome devil. There’s nothing weird or Rockwell about me.”

“Is Rockwell an adjective now?”

“Dude. Focus.”

“Okay, look, you’ve got freckles.” Sam poked Dean’s cheek. 

Dean flinched away, “No I don’t ”

That just got him poked again, “Yes you do.” 

“Dude, I’m driving ”

Sam wisely removed his finger from Dean’s face before his brother tried to bite it off. That didn’t stop his examination though. “And you’ve got green eyes... well hazel, but sometimes they’re green. Alec’s are like crazy green though. Oh, and your ears stick out, and you definitely have girly lips.”

Dean shot his brother the death-glare, “Dude, I totally do not have girly lips.”

Sam grinned mischievously, “Dean, have you looked in a mirror? You’re like, the guy version of Angelina Jolie. People comment on it all the time, you can’t pretend they don’t. Last school I went to, a guy said people call your lips dick – ”

Dean interrupted him with gritted teeth, “Sam. If you continue to talk I’ll be forced to pull this car over and end you. Do you understand? No more talking about my lips.”

His little brother was the image of innocence, “Sure thing.”

Dean gave the boy sharing the front seat with him a sidelong look. “Shit, this kid does look like me.”

Sam beamed, “So there ya go Dear old Daddy won’t drop him off like a lost puppy, because Rambo Junior here reminds him of his little Dean-o.”

“You know I might just pull this car over anyway.”

Sam continued to dangle over the front seat, but shifted a little further away from his brother’s wrath. “No, you won’t. That’d wake Dad up, and he’d be pissed.”

Sam didn’t move quickly enough, or far enough away because Dean got a handful of his shaggy hair and gave it a good, quick tug. 

“I know where you live, little brother,” he growled as he caught the wheel again.

“Dick sucking lips ” Sam squealed, unrepentant.

“That’s it ” Dean started to turn the Impala onto the shoulder of the road.

Imminent violence was avoided only because John growled, “Boys, if this car needs to get pulled over, neither one of you will be too happy about it. Understand me?”

Dean quickly corrected their path and Sam settled back to his place in the back seat wondering when his dad woke up. Both boys were contrite. “Yes sir.”

John gave each of his sons a measured glare from where he lay, reclined against the door, before shutting his eyes again. Dean met Sam’s eyes in the rearview mirror and made a slashing motion over his throat with his finger. Sam proudly held up his middle finger in response.

“Boys.” John didn’t even open his eyes.

Dean quickly turned his attention to the road again. He didn’t know how his dad managed to do that, but he was smart enough to heed the warning.

They drove in peace for another four hours, stopping only briefly for gas. It was lucky that they mostly traveled in rural areas. The Pulse hit urban populations the hardest. The small towns were able to manage without as much government intervention. It was rough to find gas and fast food nowadays, but they always managed. Suddenly skills like machine maintenance and manual labor were much more valued. The Winchesters found themselves doing more honest work in order to feed and clothe themselves. It was hard, but doable. Just another necessary change, thanks to the Pulse. 

They finally ended up in a town called Clearwater without any hint of being followed. John left the boys in the car while he went into a thrift store to find Alec clothes. 

Dean glanced at Alec. The boy stared back with smirk firmly in place. They sized each other up.

After a tense moment, Alec triumphantly stated, “I’m better looking.”

Dean pursed his lips, “In your dreams, short stack”

“Short and handsome.” Alec smirked, “Short and handsome...”

“Whatever.”

Sam looked ready to break out the popcorn. This was better then daytime tv.

Dean reopened the discussion, “Why do you look like me anyway?”

Alec clarified, “You mean weird, but cute in a Norman Rockwell kinda way?”

Sam and Dean’s jaws dropped. Sam protested, “I thought you were asleep ”

Alec shrugged, “I was faking it. Don’t need much sleep. Anyway, I wasn’t gonna sleep in a car with you guys. I don’t trust you.”

Dean’s eyes narrowed. “We saved your ass.”

“Doesn’t mean you won’t sell my ass later.”

“Ew, dude, gross. You have had a seriously twisted childhood.” Sam wrinkled his nose again.

Alec shrugged nonchalantly, “Whatever.”

Dean leaned in closer, “Okay really, why do you look like me?”

“You’re probably my template. The probability of running into you is extremely low, but obviously not impossible.”

Sam, the science nerd, had to ask. “Template?” 

Alec sighed and explained very slowly as though talking to a particularly stupid child, “Every enhanced soldier is based off of the DNA of a living person. It lowers the chances of unplanned genetic deviations. It looks like Dean here is my genetic donor.” 

Both boys stared at Alec, not really comprehending. Alec rolled his eyes and restated, “I’m sort of his clone. But obviously much better looking.” 

Sam grinned, “Hey Dean, it looks like being a smart ass is genetic after all ” 

“Shut up Sam.” Dean looked seriously freaked out. 

“You’re not gonna puke or something, right? Because I’m not prone to randomly puking and I’d hate to think my genetic donor is a pussy.” 

That snapped Dean out of his shock, “Your genetic donor may be prone to kicking your ass if you keep it up.”

Alec just grinned, “This family is violent. Awesome.”

Sam shook his head, “So weird...”

All three of them were startled when John suddenly opened the car door and shoved a bag at Alec. He asked darkly, “Am I interrupting something?” The boys shook their heads. John didn’t believe them, but he didn’t have the energy to make an issue out of it. “Alec, get dressed. Dean, find us a diner.”

Dean turned the Impala in the direction of “Lula’s Oasis”, hoping for hot waitresses wearing skimpy little grass skirts. Alec opened the bag and started putting on its contents. He had two pairs of jeans which fit loosely, but better then Sam’s drawstring sweat pants. There were three plain shirts, a flannel top, and a corduroy jacket. At the bottom of the bag he found new bag of socks, underwear, a toothbrush, and a pair of worn sneakers. Nothing fit perfectly, but John was pleased that the boy looked less like a stray now. He looked like a normal kid. 

The little family stumbled out of the car, stretching tight muscles and aching joints. 

“How’s the shoulder?” John asked, seeing Alec rotating his scapula, testing the range of movement. 

The boy shrugged, but didn’t look like he was in pain. John made a note to take a look at the area as soon as the four of them refueled.

The diner was small, but clean. Hardly the Hawaiian paradise that Dean imagined, but quite serviceable. The one waitress on duty was in her late forties and, thankfully, not wearing a grass skirt. She was a plump woman, with bleached blonde hair tied up in a pony tail, wearing far too much makeup. She wore a thin pink sweater with a white heart carefully embroidered on. It looked like something a five year old might wear. Her nametag proclaimed her name to be “Cherry.” All four Winchesters stopped short by the sight of her. Alec surreptitiously ducked behind John.

Cherry didn’t seem to notice their reaction and chirped merrily at them. “Hiya boys C’mon in ”  
The place was deserted except for the five of them. Dean felt a shiver of fear. No one could possibly be this perky, unless she was secretly a cheerleader. With her high nasal voice and bouncy step, Dean didn’t doubt that she was a cheerleader... a long, LONG time ago. 

John gave the three kids a little shove to get them moving, herding them towards a booth. He stuck Alec on the inside by the wall, and sat next to him. Dean did the same thing to Sam. 

Cherry got them menus, but instead of giving them time to peruse them, she lingered a the table, staring at the four of them. “Oh my, you have some handsome boys here, Mister ” she cooed in delight. 

Seeing Sam and Dean, she squealed, “Are you two twins? I love twins ”

Dean sunk lower in his seat as Sam grinned, “No ma’am, just brothers.”

“Ooo, who’s older?” Dean started to open his mouth, but Cherry cut him off, “No, wait, let me guess. It’s the taller one right?”

Dean sat up in indignation, “Sammy’s not taller then me ”

John covered his grin with a hand as he pretended to rub at his face, “Sorry to break it to you son, but Sammy hit a growth spurt.”

Cherry looked heart broken, “Did I guess wrong?”

Sam beamed, “Dean’s four years older.”

This cheered Cherry right back up, “Four years? Oh, you’re like my nieces Those two girls look like peas in a pod, Sissy and Missy Missy’s five years older.” She looked indulgently at Dean and pinched his cheek, “She’d raise up quite the fuss when their momma dressed them up in the same outfits. They were cute as buttons though. Your daddy ever do that? I bet you boys would look so sweet in matching clothes.”

Dean jerked out of her grip and glared, “No way.” 

John raised an eyebrow, “Dean, manners.”

Dean frowned, blushing hard and wishing to God he had picked Carl’s Pancake House instead. “Sorry. No, ma’am,” he amended.

Cherry didn’t look the least bit upset, “That’s a shame. It’d be a precious family photo.”

John couldn’t hide his grin anymore. “It would at that.”

The gum popping waitress suddenly turned her attention to Alec, who was strategically hiding behind John’s larger frame. “And who’s this little one? My but you’re the spitting image of your big brother aren’t you? Bet you’ll be like little Sissy, growing up to look just like Missy ”

Now it was Dean’s turn to beam, “That’s our Alec. He’s our little Sissy alright.” 

Alec glowered as Dean reached across the table to rub the younger boy’s head. 

“Isn’t that the sweetest thing I love seeing little boys lookin’ after their baby brothers.” 

Dean knocked his shoulder against Sam’s and smiled up at the waitress, “That’s us.” 

And quick as a flash Cherry’s attention was back on Dean. She couldn’t seem to keep her hands off of him, petting his head like a dog’s, “An’ how old are you, babydoll? You’re a big boy aren’t you? Must be at least fifteen ”

Dean batted her hand away and stated condescendingly, “If Sam is four years younger then me, and Sam is obviously at least fourteen, then logic would dictate that I’m at least eighteen.” He smiled insolently, “But I’m actually nineteen. Thank you very much.”

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother, “Nice word problem there Dean.”

“Yeah, well if I ever took the SATs I woulda aced the math part.” 

John didn’t look nearly as amused as Dean did, “Dean, that’s enough.”

The boy hunched down, “Yes sir.”

John turned to the waitress. “I’m sorry ma’am. You know how kids get. He’s sensitive about his baby-face.”

John felt a pang of guilt as Cherry immediately jumped on that. “He certainly does have a baby-face ” She chirped at Sam, “Not like his little brother here. His little brother looks like quite the little man.”

Dean groaned loudly, “Kill me now.”

John pointed at his son and warned, “I’m not telling you again, Dean. Behave.”

Dean looked chastened, “Yes sir. Sorry ma’am.”

John took pity on the boys and did his best to send the waitress on her way, “I’m sorry to rush ma’am, but we’re on a road trip and we need to be on the highway soon. Can I get a coffee and my boys’ll have milk.”

Sam and Dean protested, but were shot down by one look from John. “Milk.”

Both boys capitulated, “Yes sir.”

Cherry finally seemed to get the hint, “Sure thing. Comin’ right up. Be back in a jiffy ” She couldn’t resist one last hair ruffle has she passed Dean, but Dean did his best to swallow a look of complete revulsion. 

John raised one eyebrow, “This is not how I raised you boys to behave. I know you’re tired and she was... perky, but that’s no excuse. You’re already doing extra drills when we get to the next motel. Keep this up and we’ll be having a discussion too. You understand me?”

Both boys’ faces turned bright pink. “Yes sir.” 

“Good. Now do you want hamburgers or meatloaf?”

It was a full day of driving before John was willing to stop for the night and four p.m. when he finally pulled into Sleepy Knights Motel. That’d give his boys two hours of daylight left to burn off energy. He sent Sam and Dean out of the room with strict orders to stay together and keep the two-way radio on. The boys’ behavior at dinner earned them an extra set of crunches. He saw Dean’s face drop, but he knew Dean would enforce the training even if he wasn’t there. His eldest was reliable when it came to that. 

John closed the door behind his sons and turned towards Alec. The kid was sitting on the bed, feet not quite touching the floor. John dragged out the first aid kit and hoped he wouldn’t regret sending Dean away, especially if the kid needed stitches. “Let’s look at your shoulder, kiddo.”

Alec shrugged out of the shirt and ripped off the bloody gauze. Without being told he went to stand between John’s knees again. John looked in amazement at the healing wound. Alec sensed the grownup’s wonderment and couldn’t resist a cheeky, “Tah-dah ”

John peeled off the butterfly bandages. “How is this possible?” It definitely looked like the shoulder still hurt, but a cut that should have required stitches was now a bright purple scar. 

“I told you. I heal fast. Give it a week and you’ll never know it was even there.”

John ran his fingers over the mark as Alec patiently tolerated his attention. When John was finished, Alec put his shirt back on and stood at ease. The boy’s casual military stance reminded John of the Academy. He gently asked the boy, “Can you tell me about your mission, son?”

Alec looked torn. “That’s classified.”

John squeezed the kid’s good shoulder, “Are you planning on going back, kiddo?”

The boy looked like his dog just died, “I... I can’t go back. I’d either be disposed of or reindoctrinated. And I don’t think I can handle that again. I’d rather be eliminated.” 

John resisted the urge to give the kid a hug. He didn’t think Alec would respond to it well. “Then it doesn’t matter if it’s classified. Tell me about your mission.”

Alec was silent for a moment, and then made the conscious choice to be a traitor. “It wasn’t really a mission. It was... training. I think they wanted to see if we could handle a mission in a controlled environment before wasting more resources on us. We were given a name, a personality, and an objective. Our contact in the building was the janitor. He’d give us our vitamins in the morning, and relay any intel we needed. Everyone knows there’s more Manticore people in the building, but officially we’re not told who.” Alec shrugged, “It’s not hard to guess though.”

John asked, “The ones who beat on you?”

Alec nodded, “Yeah. The ones that try to break us. Make us want to deviate from our assigned identity. Push us far enough that we’d fail our mission. Mitchell was supposed to find new templates for Manticore, but he’d been getting unruly. They gave me a special mission. I was supposed to get access to the office files, and I was suppose to t-trap him in an incriminating situation. It needed to be obvious what had happened, so the evidence could be used as blackmail later. But I was unable to complete my assignment.”

As the boy spoke, his stance became more and more formal and his voice more cold. It was as though he was repeating his objective to a superior officer and expecting discipline for failure. 

John drew the kid forward a step to make him break out of his formal posture, and remind him he wasn’t in Manticore anymore. “You listen to me, Alec. They had no right to ask you to complete that mission.”

Alec’s eyes watered but no tears fell, “Doesn’t make me any less of a failure. And now I’m a traitor too. A unit ran two years ago. X5-493, he was my twin. He ran away. Those of us back at Manticore paid the price. Me, and all the twins of the traitors, got thrown into Psy-Ops for six months. They wanted to make sure the urge to run wasn’t genetic.” His valiant attempt not to cry was failing, “I guess they were right. I just hope there aren’t any more versions of my template. I don’t want anyone else to go through that again because I’m a traitor.”

John couldn’t hold out any longer. He tugged the kid into his arms and spoke into the spike of blond hair. “You’re not a traitor, kid. You’re the victim here.” Alec stiffened in his arms. “Look, I know it’s an ugly word, but it’s true. If anything, they were the ones that betrayed you. Grownups are supposed to take care of kids. Not beat them. Not hurt them. Not take advantage of them. You are not a traitor for protecting yourself and running away. You did the right thing.”   
Alec rubbed his face deeper into John’s shirt, “Doesn’t feel like the right thing.”

John smoothed the kid’s hair, “It will. Just give it time.”

When the boy’s tears stopped soaking into his shirt and his body relaxed, John shifted him to sit on his knee. The kid was probably too big for it, but he couldn’t help himself. This little kid had gotten John all twisted up inside. Anyway Alec was small for his age, just like Dean had been. Until Dean hit high school, he was always one of the shortest boys in his class. Then his son turned fourteen and was suddenly a little over six feet tall in less then two years. John guessed it would be the same for Alec. 

John thumbed away any remaining moisture on Alec’s face. “You kept saying template, that mean what I think it means?”

Alec looked anywhere but at John’s face, unsure of how the man would take the information, “Yeah. They take DNA from promising students with distinctive parents and use it to make soldiers.”

“And how did they get a hold of Dean?”

“It’s usually a school by the base in Wyoming. They do an IQ test and watch the subject. Extreme intelligence, paired with physical health makes the best subject. They usually look into the parents, too. Sometimes they clone adults, but kids are easier to get samples of without anyone knowing.”

John remembered enrolling Dean in the second grade at Gillette Elementary School and how the guidance councilor insisted that all new students be tested. She assured John that these tests would be especially beneficial for Dean since they moved frequently. An IQ test would remain in Dean’s permanent record so new schools would be better equipped to teach Dean, despite different educational standards. John signed the forms. The results had been average though. The guidance counselor told John that Dean was a very bright little boy, but nothing out of the ordinary. 

John clenched his jaw and tried not to let his frustration show to the little kid on his knee, “Dean doesn’t fit that description.” 

Alec nodded, squirming a little. “They told you he was average, huh? I read some of Mitchell’s files. Apparently that’s something they tell the parents so no one pays too much attention to the kid. They don’t want the donor to become too successful because it becomes more difficult for the soldiers to maintain stealth. It’s shitty, but they actually want the template to become mediocre.”

John felt like a fucking moron. He remembered that Dean had been jumped by three fifth graders that year, and managed to knock every single one of them unconscious. He tanned his son’s hide for drawing attention to them like that. Dean knew better then to use his training against fellow students. John remembered he had to pick Dean up at the school Nurse’s office and he had quite a few band-aids. That’s quite possibly that was the moment they got Dean’s DNA. A higher than reported IQ, along with Dean’s fighting prowess, and John’s military record... that’d make the seven year old pretty tempting genetic material for Manticore. “Shit.”

Alec awkwardly tried to pat John’s shoulder. “It’s not your fault. I’m sorry for what it’s worth.”

John took a deep breath and made himself smile at Dean’s clone, “Not your fault either, dude. No reason to be sorry. Sammy always wanted a little brother. He’s always complaining about being the youngest.” 

Alec went stiff again, “You don’t have to... I mean, it’s not like I expect... I know I’m Dean’s genetic twin, but I’m not Dean. You don’t have to treat me like I’m your real family or anything. You don’t owe me anything. I’m trained to survive on my own. I can take care of myself.” 

John hugged the kid closer. “Sorry kiddo, you’re a Winchester and you’re stuck with us.” 

The motel door opened and two sweaty teenagers ran in, covered in mud and bumping shoulders. 

“Who’s a Winchester?” Dean asked. 

“Alec is.” John smiled at his boys.

Dean grinned. “Awesome! Sammy always wanted a little brother.” 

He grabbed Sam, twisting him into a headlock. Sam squawked indignantly. 

Alec looked to John for confirmation. John winked, “Told you so.” 

Sam twisted out of the headlock, dancing away from his big brother and laughing. “Finally, someone else can be the baby.” He grabbed the little guy up, lifting him easily. When Dean lunged for him, Sam held Alec up as a human shield. “C’mon Alec, let’s gang up on big brother here.”

Alec looked to John for permission, while Sam had him dangling in the air. John nodded once and Alec beamed. “Cool.”

In a matter of seconds all three boys were scrapping like puppies. Dean managed to be shoved to the bottom of the pile, with Sam pinning him and Alec sitting on Sam like a horse. 

John knew he should be a responsible adult and break it up, but this was the boys’ way of welcoming Alec to the family. And for the first time in three days, John heard Alec genuinely laugh. The grizzled hunter smiled to himself, “Congratulations John, it’s a boy.” 

Their family had just gotten a little bigger. That boy may not have come from Mary’s womb, but he was their son just the same. It didn’t matter what little surprises the government encoded in him. It didn’t matter that feeding four people is tougher then feeding three. It didn’t matter that it’d be difficult explaining the new son to fellow hunters. All that mattered was Alec found them and they were together. They’d figure out the rest as they went.


	5. Chapter 5

John was worried. Alec didn't sleep. At first John thought it was just that the kid wasn't sleeping much. Then he realized that the kid wasn’t sleeping at all. Alec would climb into bed at the same time as his boys. Alec faked it well. He’d lay there all night, eyes closed, breathing even, but he wasn’t really sleeping. The kid may have mastered the sound effects of sleep, but he couldn’t let his body relax enough to actually drift off. The kid would fake naps in the car, but John quickly figured out that Alec was just laying low and gathering info on the Winchesters. For all that he thought the kid trusted him, it was obvious there was no trust at all. 

It had been almost a week and Alec hadn’t slept. John was seriously freaked out. He remembered what happened to soldiers without sleep. The longest John ever managed was three days and then he crashed hard and felt like shit for a week afterwards. Six days for a ten-year-old, even a genetically enhanced ten-year-old, would almost certainly cause a mental breakdown, right? 

“Alec, c’mere boy.” 

In yet another hotel room, Alec cautiously approached John. Someday John hoped to get the scared animal look out of Alec’s eyes. 

“You’re not sleeping, son. Why’s that?” He rested a hand on Alec’s shoulder, tried to get the kid to relax.

Alec just shrugged, “I sleep.” 

John tightened his grip and gave the kid a level look. “No you don’t. And don’t lie to me. If you’re looking for a sure fire way to piss me off, lying is the way to go.” 

The kid back-peddled, “What I mean is, I don’t need much sleep.”

John stared at him for a second, looking for any tell-tale twitches of guilt. Nah, the kid wasn’t lying. But the kid did look like shit. It looked like someone pressed thumb shaped bruises under Alec’s eyes. The kid was a sallow pale color. John could feel tiny tremors through his hand on Alec’s shoulder. The kid may not need much sleep, but he was definitely running on empty. 

John tried to remember how he got Dean to sleep when he was young and stubborn. Well, younger, and more stubborn. No one could accuse his oldest of being a polite easy-going young man. Dean could dig his heels into the ground with the best of them, and damn, the boy had a smart mouth on him. John didn’t know where he got it from. It certainly wasn’t a trait he encouraged in his boys, but never-the-less, both excelled in back-talk. 

He remembered when Dean was four and nothing was right in the world. Dean would try to make himself stay awake all night to keep Sammy safe. The only way he got his little soldier to sleep, was to pile both boys on his chest and promise to take first watch. Dean would fall asleep listening to his daddy’s heart beat and holding Sammy like a teddy bear. Somehow John doubted that tactic would work well with Alec. 

“Okay, look kid, you need sleep. You tell me what I gotta do so you sleep.”   
Alec shrugged again, “I’m alright.”

John gave the boy a gentle shake and a stern look. “You tell me what I gotta do so you sleep.” 

“I dunno.” Alec squirmed under his scrutiny. “No really, I don’t At Manticore I slept okay most of the time. But I... I don’t sleep so well without my unit.” 

John scrubbed his face with a callused palm. “Okay. You know you can think of us as your unit now, right? We’ve got your back.”

Alec smiled brightly, “Sure I know that.”

Liar. That kid could lie through his teeth. 

“Alright Alec. We’re driving to a friends’ house today. He’s got my truck and the Impala is a little small for four people. Will you do me a favor and at least try to sleep in the car today?” 

Alec opened his mouth to insist he had been sleeping in the car, but John cut him off. “Really sleep. None of that playin’ possum, like you have been. Kiddo, I’ve raised two boys on my own... I can tell when a kid is faking.” 

The boy forced himself to grin. “Sure thing. I’ll sleep.” 

Yeah, right. 

John loaded his kids into the Impala once again, but steered Dean towards the backseat with Alec. He spoke quietly to his son. “See if you can get him to crash?”

Dean raised an eyebrow, but nodded as he climbed in the backseat, physically shifting Alec closer to the door. “Shove over kid. Some of us have long legs.” 

Alec scowled at John. Kid had heard every word. Crap. What did John do to deserve a son with enhanced senses? It’d be helpful on a hunt, but damn inconvenient everywhere else. But John wasn’t going to argue with a half-pint ten-year-old, even if the kid in question did have super hearing. Unapologetic, he pointed one finger at the boy and ordered, “Sleep.”

“Fine,” Alec said, leaning against the door moodily and feigning unconsciousness. This time he wasn’t fooling anybody. 

John sighed and pulled out. It was a good two-day drive to Bobby’s. Even without his sleep deprived child-soldier, he had enough on his plate just trying to keep the other boys from killing each other. Sam and Dean usually got along pretty well, but they were two teenage boys stuck in very close quarters. John expected obedience, but not miracles. He knew there’d be a squabble or six before they got to Bobby’s. What he didn’t expect was Sam’s look of pure jealousy when he realized Dean actually did get Alec to fall asleep. 

Dean was sprawled out on the backseat, snoring softly. His left hand and left foot were on the floor, and his right knee was crammed against the door. He was a little tall to be sleeping in the backseat, but somehow he managed to do it. After all, Sam and Dean had both been raised in this car. If anyone could figure out a way to bend himself into an impossible sleeping arrangement, it was Dean. Alec was limp-limbed and loose, stretched out over Dean’s chest like a human blanket. Dean’s right arm was flung across the kid’s back, keeping him from wiggling in his sleep. Alec looked like an oversized carnival toy, with not even a flicker of consciousness or tension in his body.

Sam was staring at the cozy scene with a sullen look on his face. John scoffed. Great, that’s all they needed. Sammy Winchester with middle child issues. 

Sam caught his dad looking at him and slunk lower in his seat, “What?”

John decided to ignore the attitude, “How’d Dean do it?”

Sam jeered, willing to enlighten his father. “Same thing he did when I was little. Said he wanted a nap but the backseat wasn’t big enough. He use to manhandle me into being his stuffed animal, said it was cold. It pissed me off at first, but he wouldn’t let go and soon with the rocking of the car and Dean being all warm and pillow-like, I’d fall asleep. Guess that trick works on any kid.” 

“Alec hasn’t been sleeping. I told Dean to try one of his Sammy-tricks.” John tried to defuse the potential conflict between the boys, but Sam just frowned. 

“He’s taken a nap in the car everyday That kid sleeps for hours ”

“You keep your voice down ” John hissed, not wanting to wake up the boys in the back. “He hasn’t been sleeping, Sam. He’s faked a nap in the car everyday. Take a look in the backseat and tell me if that looks like the same sleeping Alec as yesterday.” 

Sam twisted around in his seat and huffed. “He’s a little faker. Bet he lies too.”

John shrugged, “Yeah, but he’s new. He’ll figure out the rules. I need you and Dean to be a good example for him. I don’t think he’s used to normal people.”

Sam laughed, “Yeah, we’re totally normal.”

John just continued as though he hadn’t been interrupted, “You’re always complaining about being the baby, Sam. This is your chance to be the big brother. I know I can trust you to be a good influence.”

“You know I wanted to be a big brother when I was five and my best friend in kindergarten just got a new baby sister. I haven’t asked for a sibling since then.”

John sighed. Yep, Sammy was jealous and it hadn’t even been a week. “You may not have asked for one since then, but you got one.”

Dean cleared his throat and both Winchesters glanced in the backseat. Dean was awake, and from the rigidness of Alec’s body, the kid was too. 

“Shit.” John gave Sam a hard look and the fifteen-year-old didn’t even have the decency to look a little guilty. “Alec, how long have you been awake, son?”

There was no answer. 

Sam just glowered at the kid, “Faker.” 

John smacked Sam across the back of his head. “Ow What was that for? He is faking ”

“I know this is difficult, son, because you’re fifteen and your hormones make you crazy. But try to not piss me off, okay?”

Sam grumbled, but nodded, rubbing the back of his head. 

John could hear Dean murmuring quietly to the kid. Something about teenagers being clinically insane and something about being glad Dad found him. Whether it was the quiet reassurances or the warmth emanating from Dean, Alec drifted off to sleep again and didn’t wake up for fourteen hours.

John was worried again. This time because Alec wouldn’t wake up. He could, and did, manhandle the kid out of the car, into his arms, and carry him into the diner. The kid stayed asleep, even when John propped him up against the wall so the rest of them could eat. Luckily the waitress seemed amused by the sleeping kid, instead of concerned that John may be a pedophile with a supply of chloroform or something. 

Of course, it was only when John got his boys loaded into the hotel room, and was getting ready for bed himself that the kid woke up. And when Alec woke up, he really woke up. His color was back to normal and those circles had receded. He looked a lot healthier, bouncing slightly on the bed, his feet kicking the baseboard. 

“Do we have to go to sleep? I’m not tired anymore.” 

His other sons looked balefully over at John’s bed. They were both under the covers already and Sam was eyeing his pillow and John could plainly see the internal debate between covering his head with it and hurling it at the offending source of noise. One raised eyebrow from John, had Sam covering his head with the pillow. Smart boy. 

“Alec, I’m really glad you got some sleep in the car, but we didn’t.” He sighed, trying to think of a way to quietly appease the boy. “You can either read a book in the bathroom until you’re tired, or watch tv very, very quietly.”

Alec grinned, “TV ”

John rolled his eyes, “Yeah, of course tv. You’re a product of Dean’s DNA all right.” 

He got the kid set up in front of the television and climbed back into bed. One nice thing about Alec’s super-hearing was the kid could watch music videos with the volume practically on mute. John had no problem falling asleep despite the flashing lights of the television. 

When morning came, he wasn’t really surprised to see Alec still firmly planted in front of the tv. John clicked the tv off and ignored the kid’s look of disappointment. He nudged his other boys awake, “C’mon, shower if you didn’t take one last night. We’re seeing Bobby today.” 

Despite the early morning grumbling, he got the kids in the car by nine am. He stuck Sam in the backseat with Alec. Figured they’d either work it out, or they’d kill each other and hey, that’d be fewer mouths to feed. 

Silence prevailed for almost an hour before Sam cracked. “Sorry ‘bout yesterday.”

It was a good thing Alec had excellent hearing, because he needed it to understand Sam’s mumbling. “Yesterday? I believe I was asleep yesterday.”

Sam’s eyes narrowed, “You are such a little faker ”

“Whatever.” 

The teenager glared, “Yeah. Whatever.” 

Oh it was a fun six hours trapped in the Impala, driving to Bobby’s. 

John had the foresight to warn Bobby about the addition to his family, but that didn’t stop the older hunter from staring when faced with Dean’s look-alike. 

Alec had the audacity to actually strike a pose, “Take a picture. It’ll last longer.” 

Dean lightly smacked the back of his head, “Dude, that’s such a cliché.”

Alec protested, “It’s a common saying It’s meant to indicate that someone is staring ”

“I know what it means, short-stack. But it’s still a stupid cliché.”

“Whatever.” 

Dean called over to John, “Dad, are you sure that Alec is made from my DNA? He sounds like Sammy ” 

Sam and Alec both bristled at that, “Hey ” 

“I think that just proves my point.” Dean smirked. 

Bobby managed to snap out of his trance enough to hug Sam and Dean. “How are you boys doin’? Sammy, you’ve grown since I saw you last ”

Sam grumbled, “It’s Sam. And you saw me a month ago.”

Bobby just scrubbed a rough hand across Sam’s head, “Doesn’t mean you haven’t grown.” 

John sent Sam and Dean to unload the car as Bobby cautiously approached Alec. “Hey kid.”

Alec stood up taller, “Hey old man.”

John’s eyes narrowed, but Bobby just laughed. “Yeah, kid’s the spittin’ image of Dean.” 

John sternly made introductions, “Alec, this is Bobby. He’s my friend and I trust him. While we’re staying with him, his word is law. You show him the same respect you’d show me. Hear me, kid?” 

Alec just shrugged. 

John crouched down to the boy’s level, “That’s not an answer. I said, do you hear me?”

Alec executed a perfect military salute. “Sir, yes, sir ” 

John’s hand itched to smack some smart-aleck butt. It wasn’t really fair to spank a kid who just got out of a government hell hole though. He took a deep breath and counted to ten in his head. When he trusted himself not to strangle the kid, he gave him a gentle shove towards the house. “Go help Sam and Dean, and behave.”

Bobby watched the kid scurry away, and gave John a hand up. “You sure got your work cut out for you, John.” 

“Yeah. He’s gonna be a fun one.” 

***

Bobby could hear his dog growling. It wasn’t the “I see a rabbit in the bushes” growling either, it was the “I see a dangerous predator and I’m gonna get it” growling. Fearing the worst, Bobby grabbed his shotgun and followed the noise. When he saw the dangerous predator Rumsfeld was so concerned about, he carefully dropped the shotgun and raced towards the tussling pair. Rumsfeld, his giant junk yard dog, was laid out on his back with John’s kid pinning him. The dog, which must have outweighed the kid by nearly forty pounds, was trying his best to wriggle out of the hold, using his teeth to try and snap at the kid’s limbs. The kid was making a low threatening noise in his throat in response. 

Bobby yanked the kid up by the waist and yelled at his dog, “GIT ”

Rumsfeld reluctantly scurried away, but barked once he was out of kicking range. The kid positively froze in his arms. Bobby repeated the order, “Git ” and the dog disappeared.

Bobby sat down on the front steps and dropped the kid, face down across his lap. He wasted no time at all in delivering several hard handed swats to his denim clad butt. “What the hell is the matter with you, boy? What kinda game you think you’re playin’ with that dog? He coulda bitten your damn face off. You coulda gotten yerself killed, ya damn idjit. Your daddy raised you with more sense then that.”

The kid was hollering and squirming like Bobby was beating the stuffing out of him. Bobby aimed some swats lower, where butt met thigh, “Dean, settle down ”

The kid immediately froze. It took Bobby a second to realize his mistake. “Aw, shit.” 

He lifted the kid off his knees and stood him up in front of him. “Alec, I didn’t mean that. You scared the crap outta me, boy. I’ve known Dean since he was littler then you, so when you were givin’ me a heart attack, I forgot that Dean’s a young man now and John found you. I shouldn’t have swatted you either. John gave me permission to treat his boys like my own, years ago. But we don’t really know each other, do we?”

Alec’s lips were pinched together tightly and he looked a little like a wounded animal. 

“You scared me, boy. You can’t go messin’ around with junk yard dogs. They ain’t pets. If something happened to you...”

“Cause I look like Dean. You’d be sad because of Dean.” Alec nodded matter of factly.

“No Alec. I’d be sad because of you. We might not be friends yet, but we’ll get there. Now your daddy told you to mind me, so listen when I tell you not to mess with the dogs.” 

Alec protested, “He threatened me first And he’s not my daddy. He’s Dean and Sam’s father.”

Bobby was confused, “He threatened you? Rumsfeld? And John is your daddy. You and Dean are basically twins. John’s Dean’s daddy. That makes him your daddy too.” 

Alec didn’t look convinced. “Rumsfeld tried to bully me, so I pinned him first. Now he won’t mess with me. And Mr. Winchester’s not my father. He was an unwilling sperm donor.”

“Kid, I swear to god I don’t have energy for this. Just... don’t mess with the dog and you mind your... you mind John. The way I understand it, he may not have known you existed but he’s damn happy to find you. He wants to be your dad. Way I see it, that place you grew up in didn’t give you a daddy, so you might as well let John adopt you. He’s not the best father in the world, but he loves his boys. You could do a lot worse then having a man like John Winchester as a dad.” 

Alec examined the toe of his shoe, “Yessir.”

Bobby tilted the kid’s chin up to look him in the eye. “Now did I hurt you? ‘Cause you were hollering like a stuck pig when I swatted you.” 

Alec grinned, “Nah. I just figured if I cried a lot you’d stop quicker. I was right too.” 

Bobby sputtered and landed another hard smack to Alec’s butt. “Damn kid, you are related to Sammy. Go get washed up for supper. And no dogs ”

The kid laughed and danced out of the way of Bobby’s hand. “Yessir ”

Bobby just shook his head in wonder as the kid disappeared into the house. “Winchesters...”

***

The boys were fed and given orders to get ready for bed. The sleeping arrangements were typical. The boys would sleep in Bobby’s small spare bedroom while John took the couch in the living room. Of course with one extra body, Alec would either be using a sleeping bag on the floor and take his chances sleeping with a flailing teenage boy on a twin mattress. John had a feeling the kid would be on the floor tonight. His boys were good boys, but hardly anyone was charitable enough to share a twin mattress once they grew tall enough to ride carnival roller-coasters. 

The two hunters sat in front of the fire, nursing their beers. John noticed the way Bobby kept looking at him like he was waiting for the perfect moment to speak. John just rolled his eyes, “Bobby, you got something to say to me, just say it.” 

Bobby looked uncomfortable, “I smacked your youngest today.”

John glared at the staircase as though his kid would be able to feel his displeasure through the wood. “What’d Sam do now?”

“Not that youngest. Your other youngest.”

John’s head whipped back around towards Bobby. “Alec? What’d you do that for? He’s still prickly I know, but the kid’s been through a lot. I’ve been takin’ it easy on him.”

“That’s the thing John, I forgot it was Alec. The boy was wrestling with Rumsfeld. They weren’t playin’ either. They were out to hurt each other. So when I got him off the dog, I... forgot.” Bobby looked at his beer guiltily.

“Rumsfeld, huh?” John sipped at his drink, “The same dog that the boys have been playing with for years?”

“I don’t understand it John. That dog is the most tolerant animal I know. Hell, he let Sam take rides on his back when the kid was small enough for it. Rumsfeld has never acted like that towards any human that wasn’t possessed or something. Do you think...”

John interrupted, “No. The kid’s normal... well not quite normal. Guess he wasn’t lying about the gene splicing.” At Bobby’s puzzled look, he continued, “He was cooked up in a lab, right? Well Alec said that some of his improvements come courtesy of animal DNA. I thought he was kidding about most of it being feline DNA.”

Bobby laughed, “That’d explain it. Cat-boy... Johnny you got your work cut out for you.”

“Tell me about it.” John knocked back the last of his beer. “So you spanked him, huh? How’d he take it? The school he was in beat on him pretty bad. I don’t know about that Manticore thing either. I don’t think they were a share and care kinda environment though.”

“He was okay. Whined a bunch while I paddled him, but afterwards he was just dandy. Joking around like nothing happened. To be honest, he was more upset about me calling him Dean, then me smackin’ him.”

“Sounds about right. The kids are having jealousy issues. Sam looks at Alec like he’s some sort of spy in our midst, while Dean’s torn between treating the kid like a mini-Sammy, or a DNA thief. Alec keeps arguing with me that I don’t have to be nice to him because he looks like Dean and treats the boys like potential threats to his safety. The Impala has become a quiet war zone. My boys know better then to mouth off, but it doesn’t stop Sam from glaring, Dean from staring, and Alec from instigating half of the conflict.” John groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose to stave off the impending headache. 

Bobby just shrugged, “They’re boys. They’ll figure it all out. You’re doing the right thing Winchester in taking that boy in.”

“Thing is, it’s not just him. He was telling me about a twin who ran away two years ago. There’s another kid out there with Dean’s DNA, only I have no way to find him. Alec keeps insisting he knows how to go to ground. He can fend for himself. And if the government hasn’t found 493 yet, I don’t know how I can.” 

Bobby’s eyebrows furrowed in concern, “I’ll send a photo of Alec to Ash. If the missing kid looks exactly like your boy, it shouldn’t be hard to get other hunters to keep an eye out for him. Just because the government hasn’t found him yet, doesn’t mean we can’t. After all, the government hasn’t figured out half the shit we deal with every day. Give me a hunter over a lackey with a computer any day.” 

John smiled, “Thanks Bobby.”

***

It was a little known fact that if you sat in the bathtub of Bobby’s upstairs bathroom, you could hear the conversations going on in the living room below. Sure it was a little muffled and weird sounding because of the tiles, but Dean was an expert at interpreting covert conversations from his sentry in the bathroom. 

‘Figuring that most of the juicy info was out in the open, he left the bathroom and shoved his way into the tiny spare bedroom.

“Alec, off my bed, dude.”

Alec scowled at Dean, but obediently slid off of the tiny twin bed by the door. Sam was already submerged in his covers and looked ready to sleep or kill anyone who tried to prevent him from sleeping. 

Sam’s eyes remained closed as he mumbled in the general direction of his big brother, “Didya bring the Tylenol? My legs hurt.”

Dean threw the bottle, taking great pride when it smacked Sam in the face. “That’s ‘cause you’re growing like a freak. Are you sure no one cursed you? Well, with height anyway. I know someone cursed you to be ugly as hell.” 

Sam grumbled but gratefully took some pills. “You’re ugly.”

“Awesome come back, dude.”

Sam was annoyed enough to open one eye to glare at Dean, “It’s late. I’m tired. I’m sorry if I’m not entertaining enough for you at the moment. How about you shut the fuck up and let me sleep?”

Dean clucked his tongue, “Language Samantha We have children present.”

A pair of dirty socks hit Dean square in the face. The teenager looked disgusted and glared at the grinning Alec. “Lame, kid. That’s totally lame.” 

Alec just shrugged, “I’m sorry. I don’t know any better. After all I’m just a child.”

Revenge time It was Dean’s turn to grin. “A child who got his little butt spanked by Bobby.” 

This information was interesting enough that Sam actually sat up. “Really? Bobby spanked him? How do you know?”

Dean shrugged towards the bathroom. Sam nodded, “The tub.” 

Alec’s face turned a unique shade of red. “I’m still in the room you know.” 

The Winchesters ignored him. Sam leaned towards Dean, “What’d he do?”

“Fought Rumsfeld.”

Sam sputtered, “Rumsfeld Why? That dog is the nicest dog I know ” 

Alec stomped a foot. “I’m right here ”

Dean didn’t even spare the kid a glance as he whispered conspiratorially to Sam, “I know It’s because of his cat genes.”

Sam shook his head, “Weird.” 

“Totally. So Bobby spanked him.” 

Both boys laughed as Alec steamed. “You suck Dean Winchester. And you suck too Sammy.” 

Sam finally looked at Alec, though his loud cackles didn’t suggest any sort of remorse. “You’re right Dean, being a big brother is awesome.”

Dean took pity on the kid and slung an arm over his shoulder, “Don’t be pissy Alec. The grownups were having a conversation. It’s rude for the kiddie table to interrupt.”

Alec casually took Dean’s thumb and in one quick move twisted underneath the older boy’s arm, and pinned his hand to the middle of Dean’s back. The awkward angle of his shoulder made Dean wince and rise up on his toes. Alec smiled, “It may be rude, but the kiddie table is interrupted. Don’t be an asshole.” 

Dean swept a leg behind him and managed to trip Alec, freeing his hand. He shook out his sore joints and stared at the kid in surprise. “Looks like the kitten bites ”

Sam glanced nervously at the door. “Guys, cut it out. Dad’s gonna come up if you start fighting.”

Dean glowered at Alec but backed away with his palms up, “Fine.”

Alec started to rush towards Dean again, but Dean hissed quietly at him, “You don’t want Dad coming up here.” Alec looked unconvinced so Dean spelled it out for him. “I’m sorry for teasing you about Bobby, but if Dad comes up here you’ll be getting your second spanking of the day. Personally, I’m a little too old for that sort of thing, so I do my best to not piss the old man off. I recommend you do the same.” 

Alec scowled right back, “Fine.”

Dean nodded, “Fine.” 

Sam just groaned, “Hey Doublemint Twins, how about instead of repeating the same word over and over again, we all just go to bed.”

Dean shrugged. “Whatever.”

Alec unfurled the sleeping bag and crawled inside as Dean flipped off the light and yanked his covers up. The room was silent for a few minutes before Dean whispered into the dark, “Hey, Alec?”

The kid wasn’t sleeping, “Yeah?”

There was silence for a moment before Dean worked up the courage to ask, “Is it true what my dad said about another twin?”

Alec curled himself into a tighter ball in his sleeping bag, “493? Yeah. He ran away two years ago. He’s a traitor.”

Dean sounded affronted at that, “Technically so are you.”

Alec’s voice was resigned, “I know.”

For a little while all they heard was the even sound of Sam breathing. When Dean finally spoke again, his voice was small. “I’m sorry.”

It wasn’t clear if he was sorry about Alec being a traitor, having another brother, or for the teasing earlier. Alec just sighed in the dark, “S’okay.”

Dean whispered, “You alright?”

Alec’s voice was tight and thin but he sounded genuine. “I’m always alright.”


	6. Chapter 6

Sam Winchester did not want to be anyone's big brother. For one thing, the new kid was constantly snooping around. Alec had no concept of personal space, or privacy. When Sam caught him rummaging through Sam’s duffel, the brat didn't even have the decency to look guilty. He was looking for socks he said. Sure. Like Sam's socks would even fit the runt. 

One of the worst things about their little tag along was the way Alec would perch somewhere high in the room and stare down at Sam, like prey. The freak always managed to find some impossible way to gain a higher altitude. One of his favorite places in the kitchen was sitting on top of the fridge. Everyone else seemed to find this cute. Sam thought Alec was like a pit bull. It might look cute, but it’s liable to bite your hand off one day. It was a mistake to think of Alec as anything but feral. 

And another thing, the kid was freaky. Alec never seemed to sleep. Sure he'd bunk down like a real boy at night, but he was never there in the morning. Sam had woken up a few times in the middle of the night and Alec was gone. Sam didn't even want to guess at where the kid disappeared to. When he warned his Dad about Alec's disappearing act, Dad just shrugged and said so long as he was quiet and didn’t leave the house, it didn’t bother him if he didn’t stay in bed. Bullshit. If Sam dared to wander around at all hours of the morning, his Dad would have nailed his ass to the bed. Alec got away with murder when it came to John Winchester. 

When Alec ate Sam's entire candy stash, John just shook his head. Alec stole the book Sam was reading and then gleefully told him the ending. John didn't care. Alec broke the bed by jumping on it. John seemed freakin' happy the kid was in a good mood. It wasn't fair! 

He also strongly suspected that the kid was a klepto. Little things kept showing up in Sam's duffel. He'd find a pack of cards, an earring, some Canadian coins... just little trinkets. Sam wondered if Alec put them there because the runt was setting him up to take a fall, or because he figured Sam was too dumb to realize who was doing it. Sam didn't like either option. A few days ago Sam mentioned that he wanted the sequel to the book he was reading, but Dad said no. A few days later he found the book in his bag. Sam definitely thought Alec was trying to get him in trouble. He'd had to read the book in the bathroom, for god's sake! If Dad caught him with it, things would have gotten ugly.

The runt was already the reason Sam had extra training. Alec did all these little things to annoy Sam and when Sam told him to cut it out, Dad would get pissed. Suddenly, it'd be another epic battle between him and Dad. It felt like Sam could never win these days. Sam had turned bright red when Dad offered to beat his ass for him if he didn't watch his attitude. Alec just tilted his head curiously from his perch on top of the fridge. The kid was totally setting him up.

And it wasn't like having an extra Winchester around kept Dad from being an ass to the kid who used to be his youngest child. He was completely unreasonable and never listened to a word Sam said! It's not Sam’s fault that he's the only one in this family with the balls to stand up to the old man. God knows Dean'll never stick up for himself. But instead of being grateful, Dean acts like it's Sam's fault Dad's pissed. And all Alec does is watch and make snide little comments when no one else is around. The kid might fool everyone else, but Sam wasn't buying his lost little kid act.

And then there was Dean. 

Dean was supposed to be his biggest defender. Sure, they fought a lot. Lots of brothers fight. But when push came to shove, Sam knew Dean had his back... until Alec. Nowadays, Dean kept telling Sam to ease up on the new kid, saying he was younger than them, that he wasn't used to being around families. He was probably just trying to be friendly. Sam should give him hugs and kisses and draw little hearts around his precious little head. Okay, so maybe Sam was exaggerating a little bit. But only a very little bit. 

Sometimes when the kid got that line in the middle of his eyebrows that meant he was tired, Dean would force the kid to nap with him. It shouldn't bother Sam to see his big brother with a little kid tucked against his side, and a protective arm slung across the kid's shoulders. It’s not like Sam was jealous or anything, but Dean was his big brother, not Alec's. Alec was just a stray that no one had the heart to boot out. 

Sam had nightmares where he was surrounded by an army of Deans and he was the only Sam. In his dreams, his dad would praise the Deans. He'd point out how wonderful they all were. They were all different ages, too: grown up Deans, teenage Deans, little kid Deans, toddler Deans... Dad loved them all. He'd toss a baby Dean into the air and laugh. Dad would tell Sam how well-behaved the infant was, and then mention how Sam used to scream all the time. Sam was this gangly awkward giant surrounded by perfectly formed Deans. He would suffocate in the sea of them. One little spot of Sam in an overwhelming ocean of Dean. He hated those dreams.

Waking up from those nightmares, he'd glance over at Dean and hate him a little. Dean was always that good little soldier who Dad loved so much. Even Alec liked him better. Not that Sam cared what Alec thought. 

Sometimes Sam felt like he was in this thick fog. He knew he shouldn't get so mad, but the fog made it hard to think and really easy to feel. He hated when Alec would touch his stuff. Sam didn't really have too many things that were just his. He had to share everything. So when the kid messed with Sam's stuff, it made him see red. And then his Dad was just so nice to the kid! He would ruffle his hair, or sling him over a shoulder. Sam knew that it was just because Alec was little enough to pick up, but it didn't mean he had to like it. It wasn't his fault he had grown awkwardly tall. And it wasn't fair that Dean would call him all the names he used to call Sam. All of the sudden, Alec was "short stack," and "little dude"... all Sam got to be was Sammy and he hated that name. 

He knew he was being petty. He knew he should be nice to this kid who had a shitty childhood and was scared of everything but thought he could hide it. Sam would watch Alec fight off sleep. The kid seemed to dread it and would do anything to avoid falling asleep.It was almost enough to make Sam feel sorry for him, but in Sam's fog of mine he'd get mad instead.

Sam hated when Alec would look at him with those lost puppy eyes and ask his advice on dumb things like making waitresses like you, or the polite thing to say when someone keeps patting your head and you don't want them to. The dumb kid would curl up next to him when they watched TV sometimes. Alec would fold himself into an impossibly tight ball and put his head on Sam's knee and his feet pressed against Dean's thigh. The kid probably thought it made him seem vulnerable and sweet... but he was totally wrong. Sam wasn't at all swayed by his act. Even if he did look like he was six years old all curled up like that. It made Sam feel annoying protective urges. It was probably just gas pains. There was no way Sam cared about Alec Not-Really-A-Winchester. 

Okay, so maybe Sam threatened to break the legs of the older boy who told Alec he might as well wear a dress because no one would believe a pretty little thing like him actually had a penis. Alec didn't seem to be offended by the affront to his masculinity, but Sam still grabbed the older boy by the shirt and made him so nervous that he probably peed his pants a little. But that didn’t mean Sam liked Alec.

And no matter what everyone else said, it was not endearing when the kid would get super excited and fling his arms around Sam's waist. Sam made sure he didn't grin back when Alec hugged him like he was the coolest person in the world. Well, sometimes Sam just pretended to grin because he felt sorry for the kid. Because Alec was still pretty messed up. The kid had nightmares that freaked Sam out. He would tense up, and toss and turn. Sometimes Sam could hear him beg in his sleep. Scary things like I'm a good soldier and please, don’t hurt me. The kid would wake up all at once and look around the room like a scared rabbit. And sure, Sam maybe let the kid crawl into bed with him after a nightmare like that. And maybe he felt a small amount of pride that Alec picked him, not Dean, or Dad, to curl up next to. The kid shook like a leaf and his eyes were watery, but he insisted he didn't remember what he dreamed about. 

Sam remembered how Dean use to settle him down after a nightmare when he was little. He carded his fingers through the kid’s hair until Alec fell asleep again. That didn't mean he liked being a big brother. Especially since Dean just gave him a knowing look from across the room. Whatever. Just because Dean had fallen under the kid's spell, didn’t mean Sam had. 

Samuel Winchester didn't want to be anybody's big brother. But it looked like he was stuck with Alec. That didn't mean he had to like it. Looking down at the little kid who was sprawled out half on top of him, trusted Sam to keep the nightmares away, Sam couldn't quite hate the boy. Even if Alec did look like a girl. Still, that dipshit from across the street had better watch his mouth or Sam would break his legs. The only people allowed to call Alec a girl were Sam and Dean. And Dean had better stop smiling at Sam from his bed like the Winchesters were suddenly a Hallmark family. Sam still didn't trust the little shit, and figured he was a feral kitten who'd bite and scratch just because he didn't know any better. He was pretty cute, though. And Sam had always wanted a pet.

Shit, the little bastard had won him over.

 

It isn't until later that Alec realizes his mistake. He's been assuming that the playground at the park is like the training field at Manticore. He assumes the same rules apply. He's wrong.

John has noticed that Alec joins his boys in their morning workouts every day. The kid keeps up with the older boys with no problems. He seems to enjoy the routine. He especially likes the run around Bobby's property and would sometimes do a second circuit right before dinner. Bobby jokes that the kid is checking the parameter, but John wouldn't be at all surprised if that's exactly what the kid's doing. He watches his boys settle into a routine of steady training and Alec isn't at all put off by the drills. He seems to be used to them. Which is why John decides to order Alec to spend less time being a soldier and more time being a kid. He decides to send his kids to the town park every other day. Sam and Dean are ordered to run the fitness course there. Alec is ordered to learn how to play with other kids. Alec reacts to the mission as though John ordered him to eat an entire jar of jalapenos. John just ruffles the boy's hair and assures him that the other kids will like him fine. 

It's a fairly dingy little park. There is a slide, a set of swings, and a jungle gym. There is also a small trail with a few pull up bars and balance beams along the way. On weekends, the path fills with runners, all trying to get in one solid workout before returning to the mundane work place. Dean confides that before the Pulse, the park was much nicer. They even had a Merry-Go-Round looking thing that you could spin on until you puked. But after the Pulse, money was spent elsewhere. Little towns like this aren't impacted as much as big ones. Dean says the big towns have sectors and police everywhere and you aren't treated like a person, you're treated like a statistic. Alec doesn't let them know that he's used to being a statistic and instead makes the appropriate shocked face that the boys seem to expect. No one notices he's faking. 

When the boys leave him to run the trail, Alec just stares at the playground. There's a mix of kids. School's out so there's everything from four year olds with carefully doting mothers, to high school kids covertly smoking pot by the trees. He doesn't like the smell of the weed. It's too thick and sweet for his sharply tuned senses, and it makes him a little dizzy, so he avoids the trees. No one is running formations. There aren't any drills. Instead he see's two little girls singing to lump of plastic wrapped in a blanket. A closer look informs Alec that the plastic is shaped in the form of an infant. A couple kids are hanging upside-down on the jungle gym. One of the children is a little girl in a skirt who is flashing her pink and white polka dotted panties to the world. Alec doesn't know much about playground etiquette, but he assumes that the showing of underwear is frowned upon. He continues to scope the area, but there's nothing obvious to do. No one is even playing sports! Everyone is engaging in games without clear rules. Not wanting to let his discomfort show, he chooses to sit on a swing and push himself backwards and forwards. 

There are two kids swinging by him. A blonde girl with a cast on her left arm looks to be about his age, and there's a kid with orangish red hair swinging on his left. The boy looks to be about six, and judging by the way some of the other kids are eyeing him, he's definitely not the most popular kid on the playground. Alec's theory is confirmed when an older boy stalks up to the orange haired kid and shoves him.

"Hey weirdo, why don’t you run home to mommy? I want to swing."

The little kid's lower lip trembles but he doesn't back down, "Lemme alone Frank! There’s other swings."

Frank just grins, "but I want that one."

The beefy kid proceeds to yank the scrawny one out of his swing. The little kid is full out crying by now. Alec watches impartially. The pecking order has to be established one way or another, and fights are an easy way to prove you can lead a unit. Interfering is seen as a display of weakness, and anyone who tries to inform an adult is often severely punished, both by their peers and by their handlers. Manticore is training soldiers, not babies. 

The blonde girl jumps off of her swing and punches the older boy. "Back the hell off Frank." 

Frank doesn't seem to appreciate this and quickly pushes her hard enough that she lands on her butt, hard. When she reaches back with her broken hand to catch herself, tears spring to her eyes. She swipes the back of her good hand against her eyes and smears the tears away. The older boy stands smugly over her and Alec is pleased when she kicks him in the crotch, grinning as he yelps. 

"I said, back the hell off Frank." 

He growls in her face, "I'm gonna get you Kara. You're a little bitch and everyone knows it."

Despite her red eyes she manages to effect a bored tone, "Whatever. Go home Frankie."

With a muttered curse he hobbles off, still clutching his groin. The orange haired kid hugs Kara until she pushes him off with irritation. "Mike, stop being such a target and you won't get picked on. Leave me alone." 

The little kid shuffles off as well, and then its just the two of them. She glares at Alec from her sprawl in the dirt. "Why didn’t you help?"

He shrugs, "Wasn't my business."

"Who says that? 'It wasn't my business.' Bullshit. You see a little kid getting picked on, you make it your business!"

Alec peers down at her, "You're a little kid. Smaller than Frank. Doesn't that mean you shouldn't have messed with him? And you curse a lot." 

Her eyes flash with fury and she jumps up, shoving him backwards off of the swing. "You're an idiot!"

He's confused, but doesn't want to show weakness, so he attacks right back. He grabs her by the t-shirt and with spittle flying, he yells in her face. "You're a stupid little kid!"

When she punches him the familiar taste of copper floods his mouth. Thanks to his lifetime of training he is able to give her a warning jab on the chin without hesitation. The blow stuns her but doesn't knock her out. His execution of the move is textbook perfect. Of course that's when his brothers come back from their run. He barely has time to register their presence before Sam has him grabbed around the waist and hoisted off the ground. Dean kneels by the girl, checking her bleeding lip. Both of them seemed pissed.

Sam shakes him, "What the hell Alec? You don't hit girls!"

Alec wonders if his brain is banging the inside of his skull, "She hit me first!"

"That's no excuse." Sam retorts.

"Get off of me!" Kara tries to bat Dean's hands away. "He hits like a girl. Didn't even hurt."

Now that stings Alec's pride, "You're a liar! That's gonna bruise and you know it!"

Kara's fist closes around a small rock and she flings it at him, barely avoiding hitting Sam as well. "You look like a girl! You're ugly and stupid and I hate you!"

Alec wiggles in Sam's arms, trying to get back on the ground to retaliate. Sam just shakes him again. Alec knows he could extract himself from Sam's grip easily but he doesn't want to hurt his brother. 

Kara starts to pick up another rock before Dean pries it out of her fist. "C'mon, stop it. Nice little girls don't throw things." 

She kicks at him, "Get away from me! You know what? Fuck this. I’m going home." She flipped a bird in Alec's direction, "See ya later, princess!"

Alec screams towards her back, "Only stupid people cuss as much as you do!" 

That's when Sam decides to let Alec go. He abruptly drops his younger brother, letting the kid fall on his ass. When Alec looks up at him with a wounded expression, Sam just rolls his eyes. "Whatever, don't give me that look. You deserved it. You don't hit girls."

Alec repeats, "But she hit me first."

Dean sides with Sam, "Doesn't matter. You don't hit girls."

In hindsight Alec sees where his brothers are coming from, but at the time all he can feel is deeply betrayed by how disappointed they were in him. The two of them barely speak to Alec all day, and when they get home John changes his mind about Alec going to the park. Everyone is mad at him and he doesn't understand why. At Manticore it didn't matter. You hit girls all the time, and they hit back. It was just the way things were. It wasn't personal. Eventually they all get over it, but Alec never forgets how much it stung to have his family mad at him. For the first time in a long time he missed Manticore. At least things made sense there.   
Alec was particularly fascinated with Dean's freckles. He'd sit down next to Dean on the couch, grab the older boy's arm and compare freckle patterns. Dean was usually tolerant of this despite mutters about the grooming habits of monkeys. His only real complaint came when Alec was standing in front of a mirror, pants pooled at his ankles and tighty whities yanked down enough to gleefully examine the little brown dots on his bone white ass. 

"Dean, do you have butt freckles? I have butt freckles!" 

Dean tried to backpedaled towards the door. "Um, no. No, I don't."

Alec momentarily stopped staring at his own ass in order to give Dean puppy eyes. "C'mon, I didn't know I had butt freckles. I wanna know if you do too! I mean it's not like I was out in the sun naked a lot. Maybe it's genetic freckles..."

Dean placed both hands protectively at the waistband of his jeans. "Alec, most brothers don't compare their asses. If I have butt freckles, and I'm not saying I do, they're mine and I don't wanna show you."

Alec looked heartbroken, "but mine are in the shape of equilateral triangle. Maybe it's a Manticore thing. I just want to know if you have a triangle too...'

The older boy sighed and pulled down his jeans low enough to expose his left butt cheek. "There ya go. I have a triangle too. You're not a freak. Now can we never EVER tell Sam about this?"

"Sure Dean!" Alec beamed as he compared matching freckles. Manticore usually kept twins separate. It was so cool to finally get to test his theories about cloning. Ass freckles, who knew?

Alec dug his bare feet into the mud. He relished in the gritty texture and cool temperature against his skin. It squished satisfyingly between his toes. He dipped one finger into the dirt and dragged a grayish brown glob up his shinbone. It stood out starkly against his pale skin. He dipped in a hand and created a careful handprint on his rolled up jeans. The mud clung to the denim and he could feel dampness slowly settling into his jeans. 

He pondered that for a moment before lowering his bottom to sit in the mud pile. Sure enough, a steady dampness soaked into the seat of his pants. He grinned and thrust both hands into the mud pile, admiring how thoroughly the mud coated his skin. War paint! 

He smeared the dirt across his face like he had been taught to do to create camouflage. Alec knew he had to look like a warrior now. He re-dipped his hands and then stared at the smooth white side of Bobby’s house. He was in the backyard. No one would ever notice. He carefully pressed his hands against the stark whiteness and beamed as his hand prints clearly shown. Alec Was Here. There it was, clear as day. Unable to resist, he rolled in the mud pile and then pressed his entire body against the wall before jumping back to admire his work. It was beautiful! There he was, arms outstretched, a full body print like a stamp. Perfect. It was Alec. A clear picture of Alec where before there was nothing.

A shadow moved behind him, marring his perfect mud print. Alec whirled around, unhappy to have been caught. Dean Winchester stared at him for a moment before he burst into laughter. 

“What the hell are you doing, kid?”

Alec refused to feel silly. It wasn’t silly. It was camouflage. It was tactics. There was nothing silly about being covered in mud. He toed at the dirt, “Nothing.”

Dean reached out to pluck at Alec’s mud crunchy hair but the kid dodged with a scowl. 

“This doesn’t look like nothing. This looks like lots of something. Shit, kid... Bobby sees this crap on his house, he’ll kick your ass.” 

Alec tried to brush the mud off the wall but only succeeded in smearing it. He shrugged in an attempt to look nonchalant. “Don’t care.” 

Dean obviously didn’t believe him. “Sure...”

The kid crouched down over the mud pile and squished a glob of mud in his fist. “It was fun.”

The older boy attempted to look far too adult to be interested, “Looks like it.”

Alec looked up with a grin and held out a muddy hand. “You wanna?”

Dean was tempted but shook his head no. “Dad catches you doing this, worst he’ll do is pop you on the butt a few times. It’d be embarrassing but over in a few minutes. He catches me making mud angels on Bobby’s walls though, and he’ll have me running. I hate running. I’ll be out in the sun for an hour and then I’ll suffer for a week while my muscles are all pissed at me. No thank you.” 

Alec seemed disheartened by this news, “John’ll be mad?”

“Probably, but hey, we can fix this.” Dean grinned, “How do you feel about taking a swim?”

Alec didn’t like the idea at all. Swimming meant endless laps or lung capacity tests. Neither option was particularly appealing. It was still better then facing John’s disappointment though. “Sure, swimming is... awesome.” 

“Don’t worry, I won’t dunk you. We’ll just get the mud off and tell Dad you fell in. He’ll be less pissed at a wet son versus a muddy one.” Dean put a hand on the back of Alec’s neck and ushered him towards the creek. 

It was going to be cold, but Alec was a trooper. If Dean planned it right, the kid would only be outside for another few minutes.

Alec looked at the water with distrust. “So... swim?”

Dean nodded. “Yep.”

The boy sighed and then walked in the water fully dressed. He hunched down and scrubbed at his clothes then attacked his face and hair. Dean half expected that the kid would find some joy in splashing around in the water after his adventures in the mud pile, but Alec was fully focused on the task at hand. It only took him a few minutes before he scuttled out of the water, wet, but clean. 

Alec shook himself like a wet dog before staring up at Dean miserably. “Okay I’m clean. John won’t be mad now?”

Dean looked around making sure no one was nearby before making grabby hands at Alec’s clothes. Alec began peeling off his layers as Dean laid them out on some branches to dry. The older boy wrapped his flannel shirt around his brother before pursing his lips, mentally steeling himself for the conversation he was about to start.

“Why don’t you call him ‘Dad’?”

Alec pulled the flannel shirt tighter around himself, his wet hair soaking the collar. “John?”

Dean smacked him on the back of his head. “Who else would you call Dad?”

Alec scowled. “He’s your dad.”

“Yeah and he’s Sammy’s dad too, doesn’t make him any less my dad or your dad.”

“He’s not my dad. I’m engineered. I’m like a really awesome toaster oven you order from a catalogue. I might look like your old toaster oven, but I’m not the same. All my insides are different and I’m manufactured to be better. We share DNA, Dean, but you guys don’t owe me anything.”

Dean’s eyes narrowed. “You’re a little shit, you know that? You’re not a toaster oven, you’re my brother. My shitty little brother.”

Alec patted at Dean’s chest, “Sure, Dean,. I’m your brother.”

Dean knocked his hand away. “Don’t be condescending, you little jerk! You’re my brother. How many times we gotta talk about this? You may be an unexpected addition to the family, but you’re not an unwanted addition to the family.”

Alec just shrugged.

Dean huffed. “Look, just call the old man ‘Dad,’ okay? Maybe you don’t pay attention but every time we go into town and you call him ‘Daddy,’ he gets all misty eyed and happy. Then we get back to Bobby's, and you call him ‘sir’ instead and he clams up. It makes him feel like crap that you don’t treat him like family. He doesn’t deserve that, so if you don’t feel like he’s your dad, just do a better job of faking it.”

“You call him ‘sir,’” Alec countered.

Dean poked at the kid’s chest. “I sometimes call him ‘sir’ as a sign of respect. I also call him ‘Dad’... as a sign of respect. He’s not ‘John’, he’s ‘Dad.’ Got it?”

Alec dug his bare toes into the ground looking shamefaced before smiling mischievously at Dean. “Sir, yes sir.” He completed his bit of sass with a well-executed salute.

Alec barely ducked Dean’s swat to his head. “Smart ass.”

The kid shifted from foot to foot. “It’s cold, Dean. Not that I’m not grateful for you making me sit in an icy cold creek and then taking all my clothes away from me... but it’s cold.” 

“I gave you my flannelshirt.”

Alec repeated, “Cold.” 

Dean groaned. “Fine. We’ll get you inside and I’ll come back for your clothes in a few hours when they’re dry. It won’t be the first time I helped a little brother avoid trouble.” 

Dean surveyed the path through the woods and then looked down at Alec’s bare feet before sweeping the kid up and onto his back. 

“This is called a piggyback ride. It’s a very important lesson in covert operations and far more effective then a fireman's carry... at least when the subject is scrawny.” 

Alec tightened his grip on Dean’s neck. “I’ve had a piggyback ride before Dean.”

Dean feigned innocence. “Have you?”

Alec knocked his ankle into Dean’s side. “You’ve given me a piggyback ride before.”

Dean beamed. “Great. That means you can hold on and I don’t need to use my hands.” And with that, Dean released his grip on Alec’s knees and took off at a break neck speed towards the house. 

Alec clung on for dear life as Dean took great pleasure in barely avoiding tree branches and roots. By the time they got to the house, Dean was out of breath and Alec’s hair had gone from ‘soaked’ to barely ‘damp.’ Dean took another careful look around before sneaking Alec into the house and up to his room. 

Alec was putting a dry pair of jeans on when John entered the room. Both boys tried to look innocent. 

John ignored their looks and sat on Sam’s bed. “Did I ever tell you guys about Deano’s laundromat when he was three?” 

Dean grimaced, “Dad...” 

John continued, “Dean, here, decided to save his mom some time when he was about three years old and bathe both himself and his clothes at the same time. I guess he figured that everything had to get wet and soapy to get clean and it’d be a waste of time to clean a kid and his clothes separately. So, Dean hopped into the tub with everything on, shoes and all. Mary comes in and sees her little angel beaming up at her, so proud of himself.”

Dean covered his face with his hands. 

John grinned. “She couldn’t decide if she should spank him or take a picture.” 

Dean turned red and Alec casually positioned his hands over his butt. 

“She took a picture.” John laughed. “Mary took a picture. ‘Course that only worked the first time Dean did it. The second time, he earned himself a spanking. Kids get away with cute hijinks once. They get warned, then they suffer the consequences if it happens again.” 

John stood up and tousled Alec’s hair. “Hope you had a fun day, kiddo. Consider this your picture for the baby album.” 

John had his hand on the doorknob, ready to leave, when Alec’s voice stopped him. “Thanks... Dad.”

John beamed, and then tried to hide it under a veneer of sternness. “Sure thing, son. Now get dressed and help Bobby wash the mud off his house.”

John made it all the way down the hallway before he burst into laughter. “Little boys and mud piles... I suppose it was inevitable.” Dad. He said Dad. That’s his kid. His kid.   
Alec was perched on the queen sized bed, hovering between Sam and Dean. With his dirty, holey socks, faded plaid boxers and one of Dean's old shirts with a rip in it thrown over everything, he made for a very serious sentry. Of course, John looked just as fashionable in his gun-oil-stained sweatpants and his shirt with the mustard stain that wouldn’t wash out. Winchesters had excellent taste in pajamas. Alec leaned closer to his sleeping brothers, examining their gray, sweaty faces. Alec’s expression would have been hilarious if John wasn’t so exhausted. Apparently, looking after two puking teenagers and a hyper-active super-soldier was liable to make a man tired. The kid managed to look both confused and concerned at the same time. When his little hand went out to poke a sleeping Dean, John intervened. 

“Alec, leave ‘em alone.” John beckoned towards the chair next to him. “Park it over here.” 

The hotel room they were staying in was a dump, but after the pulse, they were lucky to get a room at all. Luxuries like vacations had become rarer in recent years, and many of the places the Winchesters normally stayed at had buckled under economic pressures. John was just happy that there were two queen sized beds, a table with two chairs, and a bathroom with a flushing toilet. The puking teenagers made the flushing toilet an essential hotel room accessory. 

Alec shuffled over to the vacant chair before perching on that as well. He sat on his heels and balanced on the balls of his feet, ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice. John had noticed him doing that all day, and his own ankles ached in sympathy. 

John shook his head. “Get your butt in the seat, kid.” 

With a huff, Alec sat down. He wiggled around, obviously wanting to ask something but not wanting to get yelled at. John scrubbed at his dry eyes and steeled himself for whatever mystery he would be asked to reveal. “What is it, kiddo?”

Alec opened his mouth, then snapped it shut, teeth clicking. He tilted his head to the side while examining the two sleeping lumps on the bed. His eyebrows furrowed together as he formulated his question. Finally, Alec simply asked, “Why?” 

“Why what?”

Alec pointed at the boys. “Why are they still sick? It’s been two days."

John didn’t quite understand the question. “They’ll get better soon. The flu takes about a week to get over.”

Alec looked like John had just killed his puppy. “A week?! I’ve never been sick from one thing for a whole week!” He lowered his voice in concern, “Are they defective?”

It took real effort not to laugh at that. One look at Alec’s earnest face informed John that laughing would be the worst possible thing to do. “No, son, they’re not defective. They’re just sick. It happens to everyone. That’s why I don’t want you sitting on top them. We’re lucky you’re not sick too.” 

Alec puffed his chest up in pride. “I don’t get sick unless they give me something really bad. Even then I’m only sick for a little while!” He was quiet for a second, and the crease between his eyebrows reappeared. “One of the other kids got sick for longer then two days once, and the doctors took him away. He didn’t come back.”

When John realized what Alec was implying, he scooped him up and sat him on his lap. “The doctors at Manticore infected you guys with things?”

Alec nodded. “Testing.”

John squeezed Alec a little closer. “Well, we don’t do that here. They were wrong to do that. Sam and Dean are sick because they caught some germs, not because it’s a test. Seems to me that you heal quicker than most people, so that’s probably why it seems like the boys are so sick. Trust me, kiddo, this is normal. And no one’s leaving.”

Alec examined the hole in his sock with great interest and kicked lightly at John’s legs. “I wasn’t worried about that.” 

Despite his refusal to look at John, it was clear that was exactly what he was worried about.

In an obvious effort to deflect John’s attention from his fears, Alec abruptly asked. “Why do I have freckles?”

John indulgently let him change the subject. “Because it’s in your genes. Dean has freckles, too.” 

“Sam doesn’t. You don’t.” Alec poked at an offending brown dot on his arm. “Did your wife have them?”

John inhaled sharply. It never got easier to talk about Mary. It was supposed to get easier; people told John it would get easier. Every time Alec asked, it was like a sucker punch. The kid didn’t ask too often. 

Alec could sense the shift in mood and jumped off of John’s lap. “Sorry.” 

John grabbed a skinny wrist, once again marveling at how his hand completely encircled the tiny bones. He gently tugged Alec back, having him stand between his knees. “It’s okay. Don’t be sorry. You’re allowed to ask about her. You should be allowed to ask about your mom. You just caught me off guard, is all.” 

John turned Alec’s arm in his hands and looked at the smattering of freckles there. “Mary didn’t have freckles, either. I think it must have been one of your grandparents or great grandparents that had the freckles. Sometimes those things skip a generation,” John laughed. “Mary told Dean they were angel kisses when he was little.”

Alec frowned. “That’s stupid. There’s no such thing as angels, and they wouldn’t go around kissing people if there were.”

John shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. It’s a nice story, if nothing else.”

Sam picked that moment to crawl out of bed and lurch his way into the bathroom. Sounds of retching echoed throughout the room. Dean moaned and covered his head with his pillow. John could barely hear him whimper: “If Sam keeps puking, I’m gonna puke, and I don’t wanna puke anymore.” 

John whispered conspiratorially to Alec. “You don’t get sick, eh? Let’s put you to work, then. You want to help Sam or Dean?”

“Dean’s not puking right now.”

John ran a hand through Alec’s hair. “Okay, I’ll take Sam.” 

As John went to make sure Sam didn’t drown himself in the toilet, he could hear Alec encouraging Dean to take deep breaths. “You’ll feel better, trust me. Deep breaths.” The kid was a regular Florence Nightingale. 

His middle son was white faced and clammy as he knelt by the porcelain bowl. The puking had stopped for the moment, and Sam was resting with his forehead against the toilet seat.

“Son, you probably don’t want your head there...” 

Sam just mumbled something nonsensical in response. John carefully peeled his kid’s head off of the germ factory and helped lead him back to the bed he was sharing with Dean. As he pulled back the covers and ushered Sam under them, he could see that Dean was asleep and no longer panicking about possibly vomiting again. Alec sat on the other bed, hugging a pillow like a teddy bear, and smiling smugly at John. 

“I fixed Dean.” 

John raised an eyebrow. “Do I even want to know?” 

Alec shrugged. “I told him all my best tricks for not throwing up.” 

John reached out to mess up Alec’s hair. “He’s lucky to have a little brother to share such useful information.” 

Alec dodged John’s hand. “Hey, those are good tricks! I hardly ever puke, even when I run really fast for a really long time. My info is a valuable commodity.” 

“Kid, how are you possibly ten years old when you say things like, ‘valuable commodity'?”

Alec smirked. “I have an excellent vocabulary. I excelled in many subjects. Hey... I bet I could charge Sam and Dean for lessons in some of the stuff I’m good at. I bet they’d want to know about analyzing the enemy for an advantage. That’s a great skill! And I could teach them Mandarin!”

John placed a hand on Alec’s forehead and gently pushed, causing his kid to tilt backwards until he finally got the hint and lay down. He pulled the pillow out of Alec’s arms and stuffed it under Alec’s head. “You’re not charging your brothers for lessons in anything. You share your valuable information, and they’ll share theirs. That’s how family works.” He tugged Alec’s dirty socks off, and pulled the covers over him. “And good luck teaching those boys English, let alone Mandarin.”

Alec yawned and squirmed deeper into the comforter. “What about Italian?”

John smiled. “What about bed time?”

“Okay.” 

John crawled into the far side of the bed and shut the light off. The teenagers were asleep, the super soldier was a tiny furnace currently digging his toes into John’s ribcage, and John had managed to dodge the flu again. All was right in the world.


End file.
